It's In The Eyes
by BookWorm37
Summary: What if Bobby had a sister he never knew about, but she found him while he was still a Narc? How would this change him? BA ship starts in Ch 15. FinOC COMPLETE
1. New Detective

A/N: Okay, this is a new story - one without Lynne. I know, so sad. Anywho, I KNOW this is completely going against the cannon of the show, but I wanted to see what would happen if Bobby had a sister. So I wrote this. Enjoy.

* * *

Wilma looked at the picture she held in her hands, one of her fingers absently tracing the jaw line of the man she didn't know, but who looked so familiar. She looked at the investigator before her, "You're sure he's the right one?" 

The man nodded, "I was able to find two brothers, but the other one is a deadbeat like you described your father was –I can get you his files tomorrow. This one's a cop."

Wilma's brown eyes were introspective and soft as she looked at the photo of her brother. "Like me," she whispered softly.

"Yes, Ms. Carson. He works for the NYPD in the Narcotics unit."

Wilma Carson's face became a stone mask the investigator she had hired to find her family could not see through. Her deep brown eyes found his and she said, "Thank you, Mr. Rouen. Do you have his contact information?"

Mr. Rouen nodded and handed her a file with all the necessary information. "That has his last known address, work line, and other pertinent information."

She pulled out a blank envelope from her purse, "Here's your money. Thank you for your services."

Mr. Rouen snorted, "I could hardly say no to a police officer, Ms. Carson. Good day."

Soon Wilma was left alone at the table in a little, inconspicuous café she had chosen for her encounter with the PI she had hired to find her father's family. He was dead, her mother was dead, but this man she saw before her in a black and white photo, _this_ man was alive.

After a moment by herself, Wilma sighed, bringing her tall, lanky body up to it's full height as she dropped a tip on the table and went to pay the bill before going to put in a request for a transfer. It wasn't that Indianapolis was a poor choice for an officer with the police department, but she needed a change of scene … and if this man really was her father's son and was willing to try at a relationship with her, then so be it.

* * *

Captain Charlie Sound was not eager to let one of his best street officers transfer to New York City, but he had little choice in the matter. Detective Wilma Carson had put in her request and had no active cases or other disputes to hinder her acceptance into the ranks of the NYPD. 

It might be a little difficult to catch as many perps without her on the force in Indiana, but Sound was sure that his department would recover. Officers fell every day in the line of duty, and there were always more to replace them.

And that was how that Detective Wilma Carson, of the Indianapolis Police Department, Vice division, came to be where she was now, standing in front of a door that would change her life forever – for good or bad was yet to be determined. All she knew, was that she had to walk into that bullpen, filled with men who would look at her and see only a pretty face and beautiful body and dismiss the badge she wore on her jacket.

Well, she wasn't working Vice anymore. Apparently, Captain Sound had put in 'a good word' for her and her new orders were for Narcotics. It seemed that even hundreds of miles away, Sound was still trying to keep Wilma safe in the very dangerous career she had chosen. She knew that her brother would be on the other side of that door, but she didn't know if he'd even recognize her – they'd never met before, after all. She could only hope that he looked the same as his picture.

She opened the door, a mask of cool indifference firmly in place on her face as heads looked up from what they were doing to see who had dared to enter the domain of the Narcs. Most turned back to their paperwork after seeing the badge on the tall, slender woman's shoulder – but some followed her with their eyes as she boldly walked through the bullpen and straight up to the Lieutenant's door, which she knocked on before opening and walking in.

Lieutenant Nathan Ashley looked up from his paperwork to see a woman about six feet in height, slender and beautiful in a mysterious sort of way enter his office. "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked politely when he saw the badge pinned to her lapels.

She snapped off a perfect salute, "Detective Wilma Carson, reporting for duty, sir."

Ashley stood up, inspecting his newest officer. There was something about her that reminded him of another officer in his unit – Robert Goren, but he couldn't put his finger on it. She was impeccably dressed in a smart looking black, pinstriped suit and crimson shirt that showed off her figure without being blatantly obvious or suggestive. But there seemed to be this illusiveness in her face … her eyes, yes that's it. It was her eyes that reminded him of Bobby. Now all he had to do was figure out why.

"You're new partner is Odafin Tutuola." Ashley opened the door to his office and poked his head out the door, "Tutuola! My office, _now_." As he was speaking, Wilma was busy taking in her surroundings and noting the many differences and similarities between the INPD and the NYPD.

Soon Wilma and her new boss were joined by a black man a few inches taller than Wilma with long curly black hair pulled back by a hair band. At first glance, Wilma knew that if she spotted him on the streets she'd think she was looking at a drug dealer or a pimp – definitely _not_ a police officer. When she held out her hand for him to shake, she was pretty sure he thought she looked more like a model than a police officer.

Odafin took her hand and was surprised by the strong grip her demeanor belayed. "Tutuola, this is your new partner, Wilma Carson. Give her the ten-cent tour and show her where her new desk is before you get back to work on your case. I want her fully integrated by the end of the day."

"Yes, sir," Tutuola said, motioning for the woman to precede him out of the office. He was showing her the break room when he finally said, "You can call me 'Fin'. It's easier for most of these guys to remember than Odafin, anyway."

Wilma glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes followed her. "Wilma's a pretty common name, Fin. But if you feel the need to give me a nickname, go right ahead. Just don't stare."

"Sorry, but are you related to Robert Goren?" Fin asked as he showed her back to their desks. "He's working this case with me while waiting for his new partner."

That sounded rather odd to Wilma, that two men in the same squad would both lose their partners and not be partnered together. "I'm not sure. That's part of the reason I requested this transfer."

"And the other part?" Fin asked, pulling out her seat for her like any gentleman would.

Wilma shrugged, "Change of scenery. I was stuck in Indianapolis for the past five years, walking the streets in Vice. Figured New York would provide more excitement."

"Here's the case file. We've got all the information we need, we just gotta catch the guy," Fin said, motioning for one of the other men to join them as Wilma read up on the case she had just been thrown into.

Wilma growled low in her throat as she read the report for a second time. _Now_ she was beginning to understand why she was Fin's partner: apparently the dealer they were after had a thing for women with an addiction only _he_ could sate. He'd killed five women already when he'd grown tired of them, and now that Wilma was there she knew that she was going to pretend to be his next victim.

Without looking up from the document, Wilma spoke, "I take it you're Detective Goren? What's the plan to get this guy?"

Bobby was a little taken aback by her attitude, but he soon recovered, "Uh, I was going to go in there posing as a crack addict … get a sale then we bust him … on the sale charge. We get him to confess to the murders in interrogation."

This time, Wilma did look up. Her hard brown eyes met Bobby's, noting the brief flicker of recognition that passed through his chocolate gaze before she said, "You're telling me that you don't have enough evidence to nail him on the murders?"

Fin looked at her sharply, "Now he didn't say that. We've got the goods on 'em, but confessions make the DA happy."

Bobby smirked slightly at the black officer, "And when the DA's happy, Ashley's happy. And when Ashley's happy – we're _all_ happy."

Wilma smiled lightly, "Okay, then. I'm game, but I think I should be the one to go in and distract him while you guys are getting into position."

Bobby and Fin both looked Wilma up and down, trying to picture the beautiful woman in an undercover situation. Wilma just rolled her eyes at the two of them, knowing that they were picturing her walking down a runway, not playing a crack addict, "All right, then, let's head on down to _The Salvation Army_ and I'll prove it to you two."

Soon the three of them were heading out for lunch and a trip to Sal's so that Wilma could prove to them that she could do undercover as something other than a prostitute or a damn supermodel.

* * *

A/N: So? Is she too much like Lynne or Alex? Please tell me what you think of this. It may be a while between updates (as I have to keep up with Lynne's storyline and 'Matchmaker') but I WILL be updating if you guys like it. 


	2. Catch

A/N: I changed Wilma's last name to Carson, as per a review request that she not have Bobby's last name. Enjoy.

* * *

When they arrived at Sal's, Wilma made the guys go down to the corner vendor to buy lunch while she shopped and changed. She looked around the store, noting that there was nothing of the really poor quality that she needed to prove her point. Then, she saw her: a woman of about the same height and build as Wilma with the _best_ disguise in the world for the detective. 

Wilma sidled up to the homeless woman and started talking without making sure she even had the woman's attention, "I'll give you thirty bucks to switch clothes with me."

The woman looked up, her eyes wide as she eyed Wilma's outfit. "I'm not sure I can go out in public in something _that_ upscale," she scoffed at the designer brands.

Wilma rolled her eyes, "I'll buy you another outfit and you can pawn this one … this is the first time I've worn it so you could still get a couple hundred from the right dealer. Come on, please? I'm trying to prove a point to two very stubborn colleagues of mine."

Finally the woman nodded, "Okay."

* * *

"Got a light, man?" 

Fin looked toward the woman who spoke. She didn't look familiar, her hands were shaking and it looked like she really needed to get a fix. He shook his head, "Sorry."

"Come on, man," she said, looking up, "I just need a light." The smirk on her face was what alerted him to who it was. She looked _different_.

He handed her his lighter. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Will," he said as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

"Will? What is it with cops and the need to create masculine nicknames for women?" Wilma said, rolling her eyes while she was secretly pleased that Fin had given her a nickname so soon. Last time she got a new partner it had taken six months for him to give her a nickname.

"I-it creates a balance in their minds," Bobby said as he came up behind them, passing Fin a cup of coffee.

Wilma looked at him with a smile threatening her mouth, "I know that. It was a rhetorical question."

Bobby cocked his head to one side as he studied the woman before him. She looked familiar, but he just couldn't place her in his mind. And what was that about her already _knowing_ something that very few took the time to even acknowledge.

She rolled her eyes again, "Did either of you even bother to read my file before I got here?" The two men looked anywhere but her eyes, guilty as charged of not being prepared. She snorted, "I have a Ph.D. in psychology."

"What was your dissertation on?" Bobby asked, now very interested in this woman.

"The Zodiac and what possible psychological ailments he may have been suffering from to cause him to commit the crimes he did," she replied, her eyes meeting his and noting the emotions flickering behind the brown that she knew so well.

Fin nearly spit out the coffee he'd just taken a sip of at that information, but somehow managed to swallow it. His new partner was a psychologist? A _criminal_ psychologist? This was so _not_ what he'd been picturing when Lt. Ashley had told him he was getting a new partner from Indiana.

Wilma rolled her eyes at the looks she was receiving from both men, "I got a free ride from Brown, okay?"

Both men nodded mutely. Finally Bobby asked, "What'd you do with your other outfit?"

"I traded them to the woman who was wearing this. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I'm going to walk the block and a half to my new apartment and change if you don't mind."

Bobby and Fin shared a quick look before Fin said, "Not without us, you ain't."

Her eyes narrowed slightly in a glare before she abruptly turned around and started walking toward her new apartment building, knowing that they would follow.

Fin shot another look at Goren before following his new partner to her apartment, Bobby close behind him.

* * *

Wilma held the door open as she waited for Fin and Bobby to reach the elevator. Soon enough all three of them were inside and traveling up to her fifth floor apartment. 

"Why aren't we taking the stairs?" Bobby asked after a moment.

Wilma looked at him like he was crazy, "My apartment's on the fifth floor."

"Oh."

Soon the two men were examining the apartment Wilma had moved into only one week before. Fin was rather surprised that there were no boxes left that needed unpacking, and that the common areas looked like the same person for had lived them in over a year. He promptly came to the conclusion that Wilma had way too much time on her hands.

She eyed them warily before moving into her bedroom to change. "Don't move anything," she said as she disappeared behind the door.

Fin and Bobby looked around her living room while she changed. There was an open file on the coffee table that caught Bobby's eye. He walked over to it and was shocked to find a picture of his father sitting on top of it. Outwardly he appeared calm – almost too calm as he reached for the candid shot of his father dancing with a woman who looked a lot like Wilma.

As he realized whom it was, his grip tightened on the photo, shock coursing through his mind as all the dots connected and he suddenly knew who Wilma was and why she had the same last name as him. Wilma came back out and saw the death grip he had on the picture, and how oblivious Fin was to it.

"Bobby," she said, when she realized he was crumpling the picture in his grasp, "Put it down. It's the only one I have."

When she reached him, and moved to take the picture from his hands, he gave it up – granted somewhat unwillingly. She smoothed the wrinkled corner and put the picture down on one of the end tables that framed her sofa.

"Is – is that your …" Bobby trailed off, unable to complete the question that could potentially change his life so drastically.

Wilma nodded, "Yes. Those are my parents. It's the only picture of my dad that I have."

Bobby's eyes grew distant, as he thought about how young his father looked in that picture, "What year were you born?"

"1968," she whispered, knowing the year would hold a lot of meaning and possibly anger for her older brother.

He nodded, not saying a word as he sat down on Wilma's sofa. "You were named after him, you know," he finally said.

She nodded, part of her noticing Fin discreetly leaving the room to check out her kitchen and call in to the Lieutenant. "I know, Bobby," she whispered. "When my mother found out she was pregnant with the child of a married man … she left New York and moved to a small town in Indiana."

"So … you're my sister?" Bobby asked hesitantly, unsure if this revelation was good or bad. "How – how long have you known?"

"I found out five weeks ago," she answered truthfully. "We can talk more once we get this drug dealing pimp. Let's go get Fin."

Bobby nodded, mutely following the woman he just found out was his baby sister.

---

Wilma dropped into her new desk, tired and exhilarated at the same time. The game had been even more fun than her days in Vice. She wasn't fond of dressing up like a hooker with half a brain, but every once in a while she'd get a john with a mind for 'intelligent conversation'. Here in Narcotics, her mind would actually get to flex its muscles as she interrogated suspects.

"Nice job, Will," Fin said as he plopped down onto his chair, throwing her a soda.

She grimaced as she realized the soda she was holding in her hand was regular. Wilma set it down on her desk and shot a look at Fin. "To what are you referring do, Tutuola? When the bastard ripped open my shirt, or when he tried to knife me once he found out that I was a … how did he put it … oh, yes, 'a bloody pig'?"

"Still," Fin said, shaking his head slightly at her remarks, "You're _great_ under cover. If I didn't know you I wouldn't have spotted you for the life of me."

Wilma smirked slightly, "That's the point, Fin. Now do your paperwork so I don't have to stay any later than necessary."

"Yes, ma'am." Fin wasn't too sure about his new partner and her relationship with Goren, but he really wanted to stick around and find out.

Wilma got up from her desk to go get a diet soda and passed Bobby in the corridor. "Come by my apartment tonight, Bobby," she said softly so the other passing detectives couldn't hear, "I want to talk to you."

He nodded slightly before turning to walk back to his desk. Wilma sighed as she returned to her desk with her soda – it might take a while for her to get Bobby to open up.

Fin shot a look of curiosity at the can in her hand and she just shrugged, "I like the taste better, Fin."

* * *

A/N: The last line (minus the 'Fin') was taken from an episode of _Stargate SG-1_, in which the team goes out to eat, and all the guys order regular cokes, but when 'the girl' orders a diet, she gets the most confused looks from the guys to which she replies, "What? I like the taste better." 

Please review, I'll try to get the next chapter out next week.


	3. Let Me In

A/N: Now, now, now. I was appalled at the review from the last chapter. Especially considering that none of the people who have this story on alert are review it. It makes me sad.

* * *

Bobby sighed, staring at the door of Wilma's apartment – his _sister_. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door and Wilma opened it only a moment later. She was dressed in a loose pair of jeans and a sweatshirt for Brown University.

"Hi," she said with a slight smile as she motioned for him to come in, "I wasn't expecting you so soon – the food's not ready yet."

Bobby's nose picked up some very pleasing smells coming from the kitchen, "You can cook?" he asked dubiously.

Wilma grinned, "Yeah, I learned as a kid – one of my friends was the daughter of a gourmet chef and he taught me."

"Was?" Bobby asked, following his sister into the kitchen.

She tensed up slightly as she checked on the food that was still on the stove, "She died seven years ago. Beer or white wine?"

Bobby squinted slightly, wondering how she was able to switch topics so effortlessly, "That depends: What are we eating?"

"Bulgur risotto with peas and asparagus," she replied, turning toward him with a grin.

"White wine," he said. "I may not know much about the culinary arts, but I know enough to know that drinking beer with risotto is a cardinal sin if you're in a restaurant."

Wilma laughed at that, "All too true, Bobby. The wine's in the refrigerator, you can help yourself. Glasses are above the sink."

Soon the siblings were settled in at the table, plates in front of them and glasses of white wine beside their food. Bobby was slightly surprised that the risotto was as good as it was, but just added cooking to the list of things most people wouldn't expect Wilma Carson to be able to do.

"So … tell me about yourself," Wilma asked as they walked into the living room to sit on the sofa.

Bobby grimaced slightly: he _hated_ talking about himself. "Why don't we start with you telling me what you already know?"

"Okay," Wilma could do that, "I know you were seven when your mother first had to go to the hospital because of her schizophrenia, we have an older brother named William who left home when you were thirteen, your dad abandoned you and your mom when you were twelve … at eighteen you joined the Army and were sent to Germany and Korea as a member of the CID. Now you have a very nice pension from the Army for your top secret work in Germany, and your skill as a profiler. When you got back to the states you joined the Police Academy and are praised as one of the best detectives in NYPD history despite the fact that you haven't been able to keep a partner for more than six months. The arrest that took place today marks twenty arrests for you during your time in Narcotics. You have an almost perfect record of arrests and convictions … and you're one of the best profilers I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

Her words made Bobby slightly uncomfortable. Somehow she made his life seem so … important when it hadn't been. How could she think so highly of him when she already knew so much about his past?

Wilma noticed immediately when he started retreating into himself, and knew that if she let him go, she'd never get him out again. "Bobby," she called softly, resting one of her hands on his curly black locks, "I know you don't think so, but you've done a _lot_ in your life. A lot more than I can ever hope accomplishing. I know it's sudden and you're probably still in shock at finding out you have a sister … but I'd like to be a part of your life – an active part. Will you let me?"

Bobby's haunted eyes turned and found hers. She wanted to be a part of his life? No one had ever asked that of him before … or, at least, no one he'd ever consider letting in. Now he was face to face with a woman who he knew was his sister – he didn't need a blood test to prove that. It was in her eyes. She had their father's eyes – Bobby's eyes. Could he let her in? Did he want to? Yes, yes he did. He wanted that relationship with this woman that would give him someone to talk to when he didn't know what to do. He wanted to have someone who would love him unconditionally – the way a sister should.

He nodded, mutely.

Wilma grinned, revealing a dimple on her right cheek that caused her face to lose ten years. Her eyes welled with tears as she fiercely hugged her brother. After a pause of hesitation, Bobby wrapped his own arms around his sister's body, his emotions overwhelming his mind completely as he let the tears fall.

It felt like hours later when they pulled apart, both drying their tears. Wilma smiled softly at her brother, "I guess you'll want to know about me, then?"

Bobby nodded, "That would be … helpful."

Wilma nodded, focusing her attention on an abstract painting that hung opposite the sofa, "After my mom found out she was pregnant she moved to Indianapolis where she … digressed back to her days of cocaine." Her eyes, full of sadness and pain, met Bobby's, "I was born six weeks early. I have sleep apnea and tremulousness – but I've learned to control it to some degree. That's how I was able to call up that tick in my hands when we were under cover. When I was ten my mother sent me to live with my grandfather, Eric Epstein, and that's where I finished high school. I … got into Brown and got a full scholarship from their board after writing a rather … moving essay on what cocaine had done to my life. I got my Ph.D. in psychology then moved back to Indianapolis and joined the Police Academy."

She grew silent, thinking of those days, so many years before. Bobby gently touched her shoulder with one of his big hands and she accepted his gesture of comfort gladly. "My mother … died the day before my graduation from the Academy. She overdosed on cocaine and was pronounced DOA by the paramedics."

Bobby didn't know what to say to that. His mother was still alive … just ever so slowly slipping away from him through a disease he couldn't stop. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Wilma shook her head, "It's not your fault, Bobby. Anyway, after graduation I met a very nice man named Steven Boufe and we got married about a year later."

"Wait, Steven Boufe – defense attorney?" Bobby asked.

Wilma nodded, "Yep. We have a son, Jeremy, but when we divorced last year Steven got custody of him and moved out here. He even went so far as to get sole custody. I can only see Jeremy when Steven says it's okay … and even then I have to pay to fly not only Jeremy out to see me, but Steven and his little preppy bimbo as well."

"How'd he do that?" Bobby asked.

"The judge wanted to believe one of the best defense attorneys in the country over a Police Sergeant."

"Oh. Do you have a picture?"

Wilma grinned, "Yeah, I do." She got up and walked over to one of her bookshelves, taking out one of the photo albums inside it. When she opened it up for Bobby to see, he was confronted with a little boy of four years in age gazing back at him with the same dimpled smile that his mother had … and his grandfather's eyes. Goren eyes.

* * *

A/N: Explain enough for you? PLEASE review!!! 


	4. Break in the Rhythm

"Hey, Will, we're goin' down to the club to get a few beers, you in?" Fin asked his partner, motioning with his thumb to three men behind him.

Wilma had been at Narcotics for seven months now, and was beginning to get into a rhythm. She looked up at her partner and the leering men behind him. She knew what they were thinking, and she wasn't about to encourage them. "No thanks, Fin, I've still gotta finish up this paperwork and I already have plans for dinner."

One of the men, Jerry Calli, raised his eyebrows, "Hot date, Carson?"

She smirked back at him, "Something like that, Calli. It's called: I have plans that I'm not going to tell you about."

"Come on, Will," Jerry's partner, Alan Hanuman, whined, pouting like a little boy, "Tell us, please."

That resulted in a snort from Wilma as she continued with her paperwork, not even bothering to look up, "Don't call me that, Hanuman. You're not my partner. And no, I'm not telling you what I'm doing tonight so drop it before I tell your wife that you tried to do more than look last week."

Alan glared at her before turning to Fin, "She obviously doesn't want to come. Let's go before she starts profiling all of us again."

"Now, now, Alan, I only did that once. And you deserved it," Wilma said, working on her paperwork as she spoke.

Alan's glare intensified as he stocked to the elevator, causing Fin to laugh at him as the other three men walked toward the elevator.

It only took Wilma fifteen minutes to finish the few papers she had left. When she looked up she noticed the suspect Bobby had been interrogating being led away by two sergeants, Bobby close behind them. "Done already?" she asked in surprise as he walked past her to his desk.

He nodded, "He wasn't that hard to break. Typical second in command who wanted more power than he could handle."

"Wow. How long before you got him singing?"

"About ten minutes. He lasted longer than the last one did, anyway."

"So, this is number twenty-five for you?" Wilma asked, as they walked toward the elevators and headed down to the parking lot.

"Yep. Twenty-five in almost seven years," he turned to look at her with a boyish grin on his face as he said, "And fifty-two partners."

Wilma winced at the last part, "That reminds me, did your request for a transfer come through, yet?"

Bobby shook his head, "No. Lt. Ashley's still looking for a squad that'll take 'Crazy Bobby Goren'."

"Bobby, don't do that," Wilma said, pleadingly, "Don't let what they say get to you. We _both_ know it's not true."

Bobby shrugged, "I try not to let it bother me, but … you were there when Mark Longing bailed on me. He called me a 'schizo waiting to happen', Wilma. He _shouted_ it in the middle of the bullpen. I know … you've been doing your best to … stop the rumors … but I've had enough of being … Narcotics' black sheep."

She furrowed her brow at him, "Get in the car, Bobby, it's almost six anyway – we can go straight to the restaurant."

Without a word, the big man folded himself into his sister's truck (he had been a little surprised when she had purchased the car that wasn't exactly small, but he'd soon learned that she liked to drive the larger model cars because it made her feel more secure on the road) and waited for what he knew was coming.

Surprisingly enough, Wilma was silent as she drove to the little Italian place that had become their biweekly tradition. "You know," she finally said, "They haven't exactly been _kind_ to me since I got here, either."

Bobby's hands stilled as he digested her words, "I'm sorry about that. I … tried to stop the rumors. … But you know how squads are."

Wilma nodded, "Yeah, I know. Come on, let's go eat."

The siblings sat down at their usual table, near the back of the restaurant, and waited patently for their usual waitress to arrive.

"Did you hear about Major Case?" Wilma asked. "They're getting a new captain next month: Jimmy Deakins."

Bobby nodded, breaking one of the breadsticks on the table into little pieces, "Yeah. I met him once. He'll do pretty good there. How are things going with you and Fin?"

Wilma shrugged, "Seven months and no complaints. It took him a while to get used to my profiling, but we seem to have a pretty good rhythm now. At least he's not checking out my legs every time we go undercover, anymore."

Her brother nodded, refusing to comment what used to be a common occurrence in the early months of Wilma's stationing in Narcotics. He was about to comment on something else when their waitress came up to take their orders. For the next half an hour, the siblings sat, watching the couples and families at the tables that surrounded them, commenting here and there about the lives the strangers led.

"Oh my God," Wilma whispered as a family of three sat down at a table near theirs. They had just finished eating their entrée and were waiting for the waitress to bring them dessert when the family had walked in.

"What is it?" Bobby asked, wondering what had caused his sister to go so completely white beneath her tan.

Wilma's shocked eyes met Bobby's, "My ex-husband just sat down with his new wife and my son."

Immediately Bobby expanded where he was focusing his eyes, and found that the family of three was seated to his left, only one table away. He didn't remove his gaze from his sister's face as he asked, "When was the last time you saw Jeremy?"

Wilma shrugged, "I sent him a present for Christmas and his birthday, but Steven hasn't let me see him since the divorce. I'm not even sure he knows that I'm here."

A very _evil_ idea popped into Bobby's head, and being as he was the uncle of the boy and still had yet to meet the five-year-old, he said, "Feel like crashing the family dinner?"

Wilma's eyes had a glint of mischief in them as she responded, "Oh, we _couldn't_, Bobby. That would be _way_ too naughty."

He just motioned his head, dropped some money down on the table, stood up and started walking over to where the small family was sitting. Wilma's eyes widened as she realized how utterly serious her brother was.

"Bobby!" she screeched as she grabbed her purse and went to follow him.

Unfortunately for Wilma, she seemed to forget the impeccable hearing her son, Jeremy, had. She was reminded of this when he looked up and saw her walking toward him with a man who looked a lot like her. He smiled toothily, revealing two missing teeth, before jumping out of his chair and running into his mother's arms.

"Mommy!" he cried joyously.

Wilma caught the boy easily, with a happy smile on her face as she said, "Hey, baby."

Jeremy looked up at his mother with the fiercest scowl a six-year-old could muster, "I'm not a baby anymore, Mommy! I'm a big boy!"

Wilma chuckled, "Of course you are, sweetie – but you'll always be my baby boy. Now, there's someone I want you to meet." She turned her son toward Bobby, who was having a glare-off with Steven (the two obviously had some history). "Jeremy, this is your Uncle Bobby. He's Mommy's older brother."

Jeremy puffed out his chest and held out his hand to the much taller man. "Pleased to meet you, Uncle Bobby. Are you a cop like Mommy?"

Bobby smiled, "Yes, Jeremy, I am. That's actually how your mommy found me."

The little boy's eyes lit up, "Can I see your badge?"

At that Steven glared at his son, "Now, Jeremy, sit back down. I'm sure Mommy and … _Uncle_ Bobby were just leaving. Isn't that right, Wilma?"

Wilma gave her son one last hug before turning to her ex-husband, "I'm staying on Manhattan Island, and I'm stationed in the Narcotic's unit. I'd really like to see Jeremy again, Steven." She directed her attention at her baby boy before smiling softly and saying, "Bye, baby."

"Bye, Mommy," Jeremy said in response, a joyous smile at seeing his mommy again after almost two years still gracing his boyish face. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

* * *

A/N: So? What do you all think? I know, that was kinda rude of Bobby ... but just wait - he has history with Steven! No, not that type of history - Steven was the defense attorney in a case Bobby had solved and the guy had gone after Bobby's credibility on the stand. Very mean man. Don't worry, Bobby won that fight. 


	5. Too Close to Home

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. There's lots of stuff going on in this chapter.

* * *

The whole ride to Bobby's apartment to drop him off, was made in tense silence as Wilma fumed over what he had done at the restaurant. He had no right to do that! Who did he think he was? Making her talk to her ex-husband like that! Luckily that preppy bimbo, Brittany, hadn't opened her mouth – otherwise Wilma would have been hard pressed to keep the conversation civil. 

"Jeremy seems like a good kid," Bobby said finally, not able to take the silence any longer between him and his sister. It seemed strange, but in the last few months, as he got to know her better, Bobby hated it when she was mad at him. It frightened him a little that she'd become so close to him in such a short period of time. There were still a number of things he didn't know about her, too.

Wilma nodded, "He is. Don't ask me how that happened – Steven and I are both work-a-holics, but somehow Jeremy turned out the way he did. You know, that's how Steven met Brittany – his new wife. She was our nanny."

"Oh. Does Jeremy like her?"

Wilma shrugged, "Not as much as Steven, obviously. I never really liked her – I always thought there was something off about her. Turned out I was right – she was sleeping with Steven for six months before I found out."

Bobby didn't respond as Wilma pulled up to his apartment building. He unbuckled his seat belt, but didn't move to open his door. Instead, he turned around and looked at her.

"What?" Wilma asked, wondering what he wanted to say.

"First off, I'm sorry about what I did at the restaurant," Bobby said. Wilma nodded, accepting his apology for what it was. "Secondly … why weren't you at Dad's funeral?"

"I didn't find out he was dead until after the funeral," she whispered, gazing out the windshield into the New York night. Her smile was bitter as she added, "People generally don't devote much time to tracking down old flames and illegitimate children when someone dies."

"Have you been to his grave?" Bobby asked, knowing it would help her put at least some of her bitterness behind her if she could see William Henry Goren Sr. in his grave, unable to hurt anyone else.

She shook her head, her eyes falling to where her hands were splayed against the steering wheel. "No."

"We'll go tomorrow after work," Bobby decided, not allowing Wilma a chance to back out of it. She wordlessly nodded, suddenly too tired to argue. She didn't want to argue with Bobby anymore. She just wanted to go home, have a nice long bath with one of the new Bath Bombs from LUSH that she was dying to try out. Maybe have a glass of wine, and try to forget for a moment that her arms should be holding a boy of six years in age.

Without another word, Bobby opened his door and got out of the car. As soon as Wilma saw the light in his apartment go on, she turned the engine back on and got back onto the road, heading toward her apartment.

---

Wilma didn't get much sleep that night – not that she expected anything different. At the most, she thought she'd dozed for about an hour and a half when her mind became too overloaded and just shut down. She was intently working on some paperwork that had accumulated on her desk over the night, tired and wired at the same time.

A large cup of coffee from her favorite place dropped down on top of her papers. She looked up and found Fin walking around to his desk. "What's this for?" she finally asked, motioning toward the coffee.

He shrugged, "Figured you could use it after what happened last night."

Her eyes narrowed at him, "How do _you_ know what happened last night?"

He looked down, and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "I was there." But Wilma was really too tired at the moment to care about how she got the free coffee. She took a sip and was pleasantly surprised to find it was her favorite kind – done exactly the way she would have ordered it, too.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she got back to work.

"You really used to be married to Steven Boufe?" Fin asked a few minutes later, when he couldn't take the silence anymore.

Wilma nodded, "Yep. Not one of my smartest moves – but I got my son out of it, so it's not that bad."

"You wanna go out to eat tonight?" Fin asked after a few more minutes of silence as they did more paperwork. Wilma raised an eyebrow at him, to which he responded by saying, "All right, my treat."

The female detective grinned, "Okay, Fin – your treat."

"Carson, Tutuola!" Lt. Ashley called from where he stood in the doorway of one of the conference rooms. Wilma and Fin got up and started walking toward him, noting that the room already contained four other detectives, all of which Wilma didn't recognize.

"Sir?" she asked as Fin and she took the remaining two chairs as their seats around the table. Wilma turned her complete attention to Lt. Ashley, trying as hard as she could to ignore the suggestive glances and looks the other four men were sending her way.

"Carson, Fin, these four gentlemen are from the Bronx Narcotics Unit. _Apparently_ they need our help," Ashley's voice contained a hint of sarcasm that all six detectives picked up on immediately.

One of the men stood up, shooting a look at Ashley, "If you'd prefer we take this to the Brooklyn Narks, Ashley, we will. Maybe Manhattan's been too easy for your pair to handle the way things work in the Bronx."

"Handle _what_?" Fin asked, the situation irritating him to no end. It didn't help him keep his temper in check one bit to see all four of the guys from the Bronx sending Wilma the looks they were. In the eight months they'd been paired together, Fin had grown to respect the pretty detective – and he had grown rather protective of her.

The man who'd spoken before turned to look at Fin, sizing him up, "An undercover op to bring down a drug lord and all his little minions."

Wilma immediately knew what her role would be – and she didn't like it one bit. "How long?" she asked, keeping her irritation to herself. She'd learned to downplay her looks while on the job and it was the _last_ thing she needed to be seen as a whore by half of the Bronx Narks.

The man shrugged, "As long as it takes. Most likely only a couple months, but you never really can tell with these things."

Wilma turned to Fin and gave him a look that told him that it was up to him. She may not like going undercover, but if he was backing her up and going in there with her … she just might make it out in one piece.

Fin turned to the other detectives, "We're in. When do we leave?"

---

The man, Detective Barry, looked at his watch, "As soon as possible. You'll be set up in two apartments: Carson as a dancer – you _can_ dance, right?"

Wilma glared at him, not liking where this was going, before responding, "Pole dances or lap dances?"

Barry smirked, eyeing her body like she was a Monet and he an art critic, "Pole, most likely."

Fin was the only one who noticed the anger Wilma was radiating – and to him it was thick as cream. "Will," he said lowly, causing her to look at him. The look in his eyes was calming and threatening at the same time, making the other men wonder just what control he had over his beautiful partner.

The anger that threatened to burst forth from the woman receded to a controllable level and she said, "_Yes_, I know how to pole dance." _But there's no way in hell I'll be doing it in front of you pigs._

Barry nodded, "Good. Tutuola will go in as a pimp. Your pimp, to be precise."

"No. I won't go in like that. Get someone else." Wilma adamantly said, her eyes wide with passion and rage the presumption that she'd be a whore. It was just too close to home for her ... a home she'd rather leave in her past with her dead mother.

One of Barry's lackeys looked at her with cold eyes, "You don't have much of a choice, sweetheart."

Wilma rose to her full height of five feet, eleven inches and turned calmly to her partner, "I have to go type up a transfer request, Fin." She started walking away, not looking behind her at the shocked faces of the other men. _Transfer_?

"Carson!" Ashley boomed, "You walk out that door and I'm accepting your resignation from the police force."

Wilma turned back around slowly, then proceeded to look at the five men present before turning back to Lt. Ashley. "I am _not_ a whore for Narcotics to use at its will to catch the bad guys. Get someone else." She knew that even if ordered to go in there as a stripper, she would never be forced to take off her clothes or sleep with anyone … but the very _idea_ of having to go in there and let that man touch her like that and jack-off to her doing a strip-tease ... It made her blood boil and she just refused to subject herself to that - again. With precision that belittled the severity of the moment, she unclipped her badge and took her gun out of it's holster.

"Consider this my resignation, then, Lieutenant." She put them on the table and walked calmly from the conference room, toward her desk. She took out her purse (the only item of her own that she had ever brought to the bullpen) and walked out of the Nark's bullpen.

Bobby watched her go, having noted her take off her badge and gun before leaving the conference room. He rose from where he was sitting next to an empty desk (his partner from the day before had called in sick) and strode into the conference room. "What the _hell_ was that?" he asked, directing his question at Fin.

Fin's confused eyes met Bobby's, "She resigned. 'Parently the whole workin' girl thing was too much for her to take anymore."

Bobby nodded, shooting a glare at Ashley, who looked at him and asked, "How's your case going, Goren?"

"Fine, _sir_." Bobby was livid that they'd caused his sister to leave the one thing that she loved as much as her son and family. "I should be able to bring in the two dealers today, in fact. Should be a closed case by tomorrow morning."

Ashley nodded, seeming to forget the four Bronx cops in the room. "Your transfer to Major Case was approved. You start first thing Monday."

* * *

A/N: Okay, don't hit me! I KNOW that my version of why she quit was rather abrupt and a little uncalled for - but that's how I wrote it! Don't worry though. Next chapter we meet Alex.  



	6. Intro Alex

A/N: I like Wheeler. She's cool. Why doesn't anyone ever call her 'Megan'?

* * *

Wilma opened her apartment door with a sigh. She _really_ didn't want to talk to him. "What do you want, Ashley?" she asked, irritated that the man had come to see her at her home – _without_ calling. 

"Can I come in?" he asked, just as irritated as she was that he had to go down there and beg to get her to go back to work. It seemed the brass didn't want Detective Wilma Carson quitting her job. Apparently she was _too good_.

With another sigh, the woman nodded and opened the door further to allow him inside. "What do you want? I already turned in my gun and my badge."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he snapped. He pulled out her gun and her badge and put them on her coffee table. "The brass won't accept them. Lt. Van Buren over at the 2-7 says she's willing to take you on. Actually, she begged them not to accept your actions and give you over to Homicide. Seems you've found a friend, Carson."

Her eyes flickered to her badge and gun. She really didn't want to leave the force. Homicide sounded nice … she'd heard about Lt. Anita Van Buren. "What's gonna happen to Fin?"

"He's accepting a place in SVU."

"Special Victims? Why?" Wilma's brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend why someone would go to _that_ unit willingly.

Ashley shrugged, "He put in the request last week."

"And the undercover op?"

"They went to Brooklyn."

Wilma nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" Wilma just nodded again, letting Lt. Ashley know exactly what she was saying 'okay' to. "You start tomorrow after lunch. Van Buren wants some time to let your new partner read over your file and get used to the idea." Without another word he left.

Wilma stared down at her badge and her gun. Emotions overwhelmed her as she stood there, looking at the two things that had symbolized so much in her life. She was cop – nothing was going to change that.

Her phone started to ring and she picked it up, "Carson?"

"Wilma, it's me, Bobby."

"Hey, bro. What's up?"

"I can't come to dinner tonight," he said, without explanation.

"Why the hell not?"

"Umm … I have to make dinner for my new partner." He sounded hesitant, as if he thought Wilma was going to be angry at his sudden cancellation of their dinner plans.

"Bobby, what did you do?" Wilma asked, more curious than upset.

"I … uh … I kinda … went off on the suspect in the interrogation room today. I-it was the first time I've done that … with Eames and it spooked her pretty bad."

Wilma smiled softly, knowing that her brother had to make it right with this partner. She looked at her watch and noticed it was only four-thirty. "I'll be at your apartment in ten minutes to start dinner for you two. Okay, Bobby? What does she want?"

"Wilma you don't have to do that," Bobby protested.

"Not another word, Bobby. I'm _going_ to do this because it appears that you don't want to lose this new partner of yours – and you've only had her for two weeks. Now, what would Detective Eames like for dinner?"

There was muffled talking in the background before Bobby came back on the line and said, "She would like eggplant parmesan. You can do that, right?"

Wilma laughed heartily before saying, "Yes, Bobby, I know how to make eggplant parmesan. It will be ready in an hour, okay?"

"See you then, Will."

Wilma smiled and shook her head as she got ready to leave. _Men_.

---

Alex sighed as she pulled up into her partner's apartment building. This was the first time she'd been to his apartment and she was quite anxious to find out what it looked like. When he'd offered to make her dinner, she had been reluctant to say the least. But her father had told her to try to get to know the big, unconventional cop before she decided on what to do about her request for a new partner … what better opertunity to learn about him than to have dinner with him?

"Um … Eames?"

"Yes, Goren?"

"Y-you can get out of the car now."

She turned to glare at him, but had to stop and smile slightly at the lost puppy look he had on his face – like he thought she was going to yell at him for telling her it was time to get out of the car.

Alex wasn't surprised to find that Bobby was on friendly terms with his doorman as they walked in. "Hey, Gary. Wilma still up there?" Bobby asked.

Gary, an older man of about sixty, grinned at the mention of the woman who'd become a constant in Bobby's life. He tapped the container next to his arm and said, "Yep, she sent this down for me about ten minutes ago. Wanted to make sure I was eating properly. Seriously, boy, I don't know where you found that woman."

Bobby grinned, this exchange happened every week, "I didn't, Gary, she found me."

Gary's grin was shameless, "Still … such a shame it took her so long. I haven't eaten so well since my wife died."

"Gary, this is my new partner, Detective Alex Eames," Bobby said, changing the topic from his sister's cooking talents. "Eames, this is Gary Fitzgerald, one of the doormen."

Alex smiled, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Fitzgerald."

"You too, Detective. I hope you stick with Bobby longer than his last partner did."

"We … uh … we better get going. You know how Wilma gets when the food gets cold."

"Sure, sure," Gary said as the big detective ushered his pretty and petite partner to the elevator off to the left.

"Goren? Whose Wilma?" Alex asked, unsure if he'd answer her.

Bobby glanced at Eames before responding, "Wilma Carson … my sister."

"You have a sister?" Eames asked incredulously. "I don't remember that being in your personnel file."

"It's not." The elevator stopped on the right floor and Bobby ushered Eames down the hall to his apartment. He opened the door and the two were bombarded with the smell of fresh bread and eggplant parmesan.

Wilma stuck her head out from the kitchen, "Good, you're here. Hi, you must be Detective Eames. I'm Wilma." She turned her attention to Bobby, "Red or white?"

"Chardonnay."

Wilma raised her eyebrows, "French wine with Italian food? You're living on the edge tonight, Bobby."

"Would you prefer a German wine, Wilma?" Bobby asked, cocking his head to one side as he was oft to do in the interrogation room.

"Actually, I would prefer a good _Italian_ wine. Like, say Pinot Grigio. What do you think, Detective Eames?"

"I prefer Pinot Blanc, personally."

Bobby looked at her oddly, "You know wines?"

She looked back at her new partner, "You got a problem with that, Goren?"

Bobby didn't know what to say as Wilma laughed at them. "We'll get along just fine, Detective Eames."

Alex smiled at the other woman, "Call me Alex."

* * *

A/N: What's up with Logan and Wheeler getting all the gang/mob cases? And what's up with Bobby having a mid-life crisis? He's not allowed! ARG!!! But if you caught 'Blasters' PLEASE tell me that you caught Logan's line about Goren when they're talking to the Albanian cops! It was HILARIOUS! Reminded me so much of when Eames was on maturnity leave and Bobby was stuck with Bishop and he kept on saying "Eames would have known."

Please review, I'd love to know what you guys think of this scene and the whole introducing Alex thing.


	7. Reasons for Staying

A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter. Alex gets to sample some of Bobby's cooking in this. ... and I reveal why she stayed.

* * *

As the three ate and talked about various things, Wilma could hardly contain herself with her good news. She watched her brother and his new partner interact and could tell without a doubt in her mind that he wanted this partnership to work.

"So, Alex?" Wilma asked halfway through the meal, "What'd you do before you got into Major Case?"

Alex swallowed the food in her mouth before saying, "I spent three years in Vice. What about you, Wilma? What do you do?"

Bobby stiffened slightly, remembering that his sister had quit her job a few weeks before. Needless to say, he was rather surprised when Wilma responded, "I'm starting down at the 2-7 tomorrow. I spent five years working Vice in Indianapolis before moving up here – about eight months in Narcotics and now Homicide."

At her announcement, Bobby started coughing. When he finally got his breathing under control, he turned to his sister with a death glare, "When did this happen?"

"Lt. Ashley came to see me this morning," Wilma explained. "Apparently the brass didn't want to let me go over what happened and Lt. Van Buren's been after them for a while to get some fresh meat in Homicide."

Bobby furrowed his brow, "Where's Fin headed?"

"SVU, apparently," Wilma said with a shrug. "All I know is Van Buren wanted me, Ashley wanted to fire me, and Van Buren won."

"What happened?" Alex asked, not really sure she wanted to know, but asking just the same.

Wilma shrugged again, "I … I was reminded a little too much of my childhood and … lost my composure."

A cell phone rang. "It's mine," Wilma said apologetically. She got up from the table as she answered it, only to return a few minutes later with a stark white face. "I gotta go," she said, her voice frightened as she looked at her brother. "There was a accident … I have to go pick up Jeremy."

"Are you going to be okay by yourself?" Bobby asked her, worry etched onto his face.

Wilma nodded, not trusting her voice as she got her purse and jacket and headed out the door. When she reached the doorway she stopped, turned and said, "They're going to be okay – Jeremy just wants his mommy."

Bobby nodded, "You know where to find me."

Wilma nodded again and left, rushing toward her son and ex-husband. Alex watched Bobby as he reacted to his sister's words. She could tell that he wanted more than anything to get up and find out what was going on, but there was also something else in his demeanor that made Alex rethink that assessment.

"Who's Jeremy?" Alex finally asked.

Bobby's eyes flickered to Eames' face, "Her son."

"She's married?"

"Divorced. The asshole sued for full-custody and claimed she was an unfit mother because of her job."

"He won?" Alex asked, incredulous at the idea of someone calling Wilma an unfit mother. Just from the time she'd spent with the woman she could tell that Wilma Carson would be an excellent mother. "How?"

Bobby gave her a look, "Her ex-husband is Steven Boufe – defense attorney."

Alex raised her eyebrows, unsure how those two people had ever gotten together. Bobby just shook his head at her, "Don't ask. That's one thing she doesn't talk about."

"Hmm," Eames responded.

"What?" Goren asked, unsure why she was suddenly critical of something.

Eames cocked her head to one side as she studied her large partner, "I seem to recall you promising me a full dinner with dessert included. Chocolate cake, if I recall correctly."

Goren smiled softly before rising and taking their plates into the kitchen. He returned minutes later with two plates of homemade chocolate cake. Alex took a bit and grinned in delight at the succulent flavor of the chocolate and cream cheese frosting. Perfect in every way. Her eyes wide in pleasure and delight she asked, "Where'd you get this?"

Bobby looked at her a little oddly before saying, "I made it."

Eames looked at him incredulously again, "You _made_ it? Yourself?"

"Don't look so surprised, Eames. I'm a pretty good cook."

As she took another bite Alex decided that she'd give Bobby Goren another chance at being her partner. Hell, if he could make cake that rivaled the pleasure factor of all the sex she'd had since her husband died two years before – she'd be willing to put up with his quirks. "Chief Goren the Magnificent," she muttered under her breath.

Bobby heard her and smirked, knowing that the cake had sealed her to him. "Call me Bobby," he said, his voice soft as he took another bite.

Eames smiled in response, "Chief _Bobby_ the Magnificent."

---

When Wilma arrived at the hospital, she flashed her badge at the front desk, asked about Steven Boufe and was immediately directed to the OR waiting room.

Jeremy was sitting in one of the cold, depressing hospital chairs looking down at his feet when he heard a clip-clop of a woman's shoes on the linoleum flooring. He looked up and jumped off his seat shouting, "Mommy!"

Wilma caught him in her arms, holding her son close as she closed her eyes in relief that he was all right. "Are you okay, Jeremy?" she whispered as she cradled him the same way she did when he had a skinned knee as a toddler.

Jeremy nodded, sitting up in his mother's arms so he could play with her lapels, "Daddy's sleeping, though. Mr. Fin said he'll wake up when the doctors are done fixing him up."

"What about Brittany?" Wilma asked, her mind racing at the notion that Fin was there.

Jeremy shrugged, "Ms. Brittany wasn't in the car." He looked back up at his mother with soulful eyes that reminded her so much of his Uncle Bobby's, "Mommy? Mr. Fin said he knows you. Do you know Mr. Fin?"

Wilma glanced over to where Fin was standing a few feet away, unsure if he should stay or go. She smiled softly at her old partner, "Yes, Jeremy, I know Mr. Fin. He used to be Mommy's police partner."

The little boy's eyes grew wide; "He used to catch bad guys with you?"

"Yeah, he did."

Fin walked closer to the two as the doctor came out of the OR. "Detective Carson?" he asked as he approached.

"That's me," Wilma said, shifting Jeremy from one hip to the other. "How's Steven?"

"I'm Dr. Smith, your ex-husband's surgeon. He'll be okay. Steven just got out of surgery a few minutes ago," the doctor said, his eyes traveling to Jeremy (who had nestled back into his mother) before turning back to Fin and Wilma, "One of his lungs collapsed due to the force of the impact, and three of his ribs were broken. But there's no internal bleeding – just a mild concussion, fractured right wrist and a whole bunch of bruises. He was very lucky, Detective."

Wilma nodded, "Thank you, Dr. Smith. What about my son? Jeremy? Why wasn't he hurt?" she asked as she looked down at the form of her child as he tried to disappear into her arms.

"The impact was in the front of the car – they were rammed. Jeremy was sitting in the back of the car," Fin answered for the doctor.

The surgeon nodded, "Jeremy may feel a little sore, and he has some bruising where the seatbelt cut into his skin in the whiplash, but he'll be fine. Steven won't be up for visitors for a while, but I will notify you when he is." With another nod to the mother, Dr. Smith turned on his heel to go check on his patent.

* * *

A/N: Well? I hope you liked it. My sister makes the best chocolate cake in the world, and that's what I was thinking of when I wrote Bobby's cake making skills. Please review. 


	8. Is She Like Him?

A/N: I know the last few chapters have been shorter, but this one's longer.

* * *

"You don't have to stay, Fin," Wilma said as she sat with her son on her lap, dozing.

Fin shook his head, "I want to, Will. I was a few cars back when the accident happened. Jeremy waited with me while the bus was en route."

"Mommy?" Jeremy asked, his voice low and sweet, like she had remembered from when he was hers entirely … before he was yanked out of her arms.

"What is it, sweetie?" Wilma asked, gazing at her son's worried face.

"I'm hungry. Will you and Mr. Fin take me to go get food?"

Wilma smiled softly; _of course_ Steven had forgotten to feed the boy. "Sure, Jeremy. What do you want to eat?"

He pretended to think about his answer before saying, "Alfredo!"

"You want to go see Mommy's new home, don't you?" Wilma asked, reading past her son's innocent look (a look that had become more and more familiar as she spent more time with Bobby).

Jeremy nodded, "Yes, I do. I gotta see where my Mommy lives!"

"Why?" Wilma asked as she carefully got up from her seat and started walking toward the door.

"'Cause it's my _job_," Jeremy told her as if it were obvious. He turned around and looked at Fin, who was not following him, "Mr. Fin! Come on!"

Wilma turned and looked at him as well, noticing the hesitant look in Fin's eyes she mimicked her son, "Yeah, Mr. Fin, let's go."

Fin's mouth quirked into a smile as he got up and followed the mother and son out of the hospital. They stopped at the receptionist desk where Wilma gave her cell phone number to the nurse on call with orders to call it if anything happened to Steven.

"Mommy?" Jeremy asked from the back seat of the car as Wilma drove toward her apartment building in the half-dark that was Manhattan's night.

"What?"

"Is Daddy going to die?"

Wilma took in a sharp breath, unsure where her son had heard such a possibility. She felt Fin's hand rest gently, comfortingly on her thigh as he responded to the boy's question, "No, Jeremy, he's not gonna die. He loves you too much."

"Then why'd he take me away from Mommy?"

"Where are all these questions coming from, sweetie?" Wilma asked, her hand coming down to rest atop Fin's. "Your Daddy loves you as much as I do. When he and Ms. Brittany got married and moved out here they did it because they love you. They thought it would be best if you were away from me."

"Why?" Jeremy still didn't understand why it would be best for _anyone_ if he was away from his Mommy. He loved his Mommy, and he knew that she loved him, too.

Wilma took a deep breath as she pulled into the parking garage belonging to her building. When she turned the car off, she unbuckled her seat belt and turned to face her son in the glow of the security lights. "Sometimes, grownups do things that they think are best … but turn out to be really big mistakes, Jeremy. When your Daddy took you away from me, he thought it would be best for you not to have to see me or be near me … because of things my mommy did."

"Your mommy was mean to you?"

Wilma shook her head, trying to explain the tense relationship between her now dead mother and her. Finally she said, "My mommy was confused. She didn't know _how_ to raise a baby … and she didn't want to learn. It's really complicated, baby. I'll explain it when you're older."

"How _much_ older?" Jeremy asked, knowing it was unlikely that he'd be old enough any time in the near future. He was a _very_ smart little boy.

"When you're old enough to drive," Wilma responded with a smile. The truth was, she knew that she'd have to tell Jeremy at least part of why she was so protective of him about the time he hit puberty. He'd need to know then …he'd need to know secrets she never wanted him to find out.

---

The next morning, Alex directly went in to talk to Deakins. "You're sure you want to remove the request?" Deakins asked, his heart hopeful while his mind was still dubious. Detective Eames had been very adamant about her desire for a new partner.

Alex nodded, "Yes, Captain. I've decided to give him another chance."

"May I ask why?" Deakins inquired. From what he'd heard about Goren from Lt. Ashley, the man just _couldn't_ hold a partner for longer than two months. Eames had been with him for about two weeks and she already wanted out. Now she was changing her mind? Why?

Alex smiled slightly and her eyes flickered to her big partner who had walked in a few minutes before and was now studiously doing paperwork. "I met his sister last night, Captain. She showed me a whole other side to Goren that I hadn't bothered to look at before." Alex looked back at her boss with determination and humor in her eyes, "Not to mention he makes the _best_ chocolate cake on the planet."

Deakins' mouth quirked into a smile as he mused over the information. "The best, you say?" he finally asked. At Eames' adamant nod Jimmy sighed in relief, "Well, whatever works, Detective. Dismissed."

Alex walked back out to her desk to find a Danish and coffee sitting on top of her papers. Those had definitely _not_ been there when she had arrived ten minutes before. "Goren?" she asked inquisitively.

"I thought I told you to call me Bobby?" he said without glancing up at her. "And yes, Eames, they're for you. Coffee is a white chocolate mocha and the Danish is cream cheese with blueberry."

Alex smiled as she sat down, taking a drink of her mocha with a sigh of contentment. "You spoil me, Bobby."

Before he could respond, Deakins walked out of his office and over to their desks, "Jewel heist and three dead bodies. You two are on."

Alex nodded, picking up her Danish and coffee skillfully with one hand while she followed her big partner out of the squad room. Now, the moment of truth: Had Robert Goren found a steady partner in Alexandra Eames?

---

The suspect looked at the photos before him with a seemingly passive nature. "I can't see anything wrong with this," he finally told the two detectives before him.

Wilma cocked her head at him: it was her first day on the job and she had helped her new partner, Detective Rick Nolan, catch the man who murdered his wife and three children. "No," she replied, "You _do_ see what's wrong with this picture, Angelo. Can't you see it on Jessica's face? Right around her cheek bone on the left side: the bruise just starting to form."

She leaned in, across the table, invading the suspect's personal space in a manner similar to her brother. With a glint of superiority in her eye that Angelo couldn't see, she whispered, "You just couldn't stop beating your wife and kids. She was too weak to handle it all. Isn't that right? She wasn't a good mother so you … _beat_ it into her. Your sons were failing most of their classes … they just couldn't keep up with the demands of school and home. So, what? You _beat_ submissiveness into them, too?"

"Don't forget his little girl," Rick said, his eyes cold with hate as he watched his new partner trample all over the murderer's motives and uncaring attitude. When he'd met the slender, tall detective he hadn't been sure what to think. Then she'd helped him catch this bastard on her first day and was now using her knowledge of the human mind to get a solid confession out of him. The idiot hadn't even called for a lawyer.

Wilma nodded once in acknowledgement of her partner's comment, her eyes never leaving Angelo's, "That's right. What'd your little girl do to _deserve_ this?" She flung a picture of the mangled corpse of his seven-year-old daughter down on the table in front of him. "What? Did she forget to put away her toys? Did she burn the toast when she wanted to make breakfast for Daddy? What the hell did this little angel do to end up like that?" next to the picture of the corpse, Wilma flung down a picture of Angelo's daughter, Maria, taken at her first communion. Her smile was radiant and bright, a stark contrast to her dead mutilated body.

Tears fell down Angelo's face as he looked at the pictures of his daughter, wife and sons. "I-I didn't mean to," he finally whispered. "They weren't trying hard enough. I had to make them try."

Wilma watched the man closely as Rick got up and forced him to do the same, "Angelo Santinez, you are under arrest for the murders of Jessica Valdez, Stephen Santinez, Enrique Santinez and Maria Santinez. You have the right to remain silent; anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law …"

As the man was lead out of the room, Lt. Van Buren walked in to give Wilma congratulations and gratitude for getting the man to confess. She had walked in with an older man, a few inches taller than Wilma. She recognized him as ADA Jack McCoy.

He held out his hand for her to shake, "Thank you for making my job easier," he said sincerely. Wilma nodded, her eyes sad with grief at what Angelo had done to his family.

"Don't thank me, Mr. McCoy," she finally said, her grief-stricken eyes meeting his. "I do my job so I can worry a little less about my own son. It has nothing to do with making your life easier." She removed her hand for his grasp and nodded again, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have paperwork to do."

Van Buren and McCoy watched the newest addition to the 2-7 walk out of the interrogation room and toward her new desk and the stack of paperwork that waited on top of it. Nolan would do the booking and she'd do as much paperwork as she could to ease the load.

"Does she remind you of someone, Lieutenant?" Jack McCoy asked the shorter woman at his side.

"Detective Goren," Anita Van Buren said without hesitation. "She has the same commitment … some of the same interrogation techniques."

"She has his eyes," Jack noted, wondering what the connection between the two rather unconventional detectives was.

"Just so long as she doesn't go through as many partners."

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter was mostly Wilma, but please bear with me. More Bobby/Alex in the next part. Once again, any requests, comments or ideas may be submitted to me via the little button on the bottom left that says 'Submit Review'. Now, move your cursor over the button, click once and then write whatever it is you want to say in the window that will pop up.

Don't forget to press 'Submit' at the end!


	9. Alex's Response

A/N: More Alex/Bobby in this ... and some Alex/Wilma to start off with.

* * *

Alex stared at the cup of coffee in front of her, willing it to grow wings and fly toward her face so she could drink it without moving her arms. She was exhausted both physically and emotionally after the last few cases she and Bobby had solved. First, of course, was a man who had borrowed money from a lone shark and his wife and two girls had been kidnapped when he couldn't pay on time. It hadn't been two days after they had caught _those_ kidnappers before the duo had to take on two New York judges in a murder investigation. Then they were bombarded with a case involving a guy who seemed to be a phantom who claimed to work for the UN! Her month was hell. 

"You look tired, Alex," Wilma said as she sat down across from her new friend. Ever since they had met six months before, Alex and Wilma had taken to each other and every other week they went out to dinner to catch up and have a good time.

Alex groaned in agitation. "That's the understatement of the year. Damn criminal masterminds," she muttered as she drank deeply from her coffee cup.

"Tough case load? Bobby acting up?" Wilma questioned.

Alex shrugged, "I'm actually getting pretty good at filling in the missing paragraphs with Bobby when he's working a case … but for some reason he doesn't get the idea of actually taking a _break_." She shrugged, "Of course, he's still making me cake once a month and taking me out to dinner and drinks after the really tough cases." She sighed, motioning for their waitress to come fill her coffee again, "He's trying, I know that. It's just a little difficult to follow him sometimes."

Wilma nodded, playing with the sugar packets before saying, "He certainly is an … acquired taste." She smiled fondly at her thoughts before saying, "But, _damn_, that chocolate cake is good."

Alex nodded, "Yeah. Bobby surely does know how to make good cake. How's the custody thing going?" she asked, changing the subject to Wilma's recent request for joint-custody of Jeremy with Steven and Brittany.

Wilma shrugged, "One of Bobby's friends … John Mason, is an attorney specializing in children's rights. He's helping me." She shook her head as she looked at Alex, "It's not like I'm asking for full custody. I just want to see my son and be able to be his mother again. Is that too much to ask?"

Alex shook her head, "I don't think so. You have a right to be his mother in every sense of the word, Wilma."

The taller, dark haired woman sighed, "I hope so, Alex. I know Steven's going to try to bring in so many aspects of my job and say that because I'm a detective I'm an unfit mother. He'll probably even bring in my relationship with Fin … I'm so scared I'm going to lose both of them."

"Fin and Jeremy?" Alex asked for clarification. At Wilma's nod she continued, "Don't worry so much, Wilma. I've seen Fin with you – and Jeremy. He's _not_ going anywhere anytime soon."

Wilma sighed again before smirking slightly up at Alex, "The Goren curse. We're both so afraid that the ones we need most will leave us."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, wondering what Wilma's fear had to do with Bobby.

The look she received made her feel all of two-feet tall. "Don't you ever wonder why he only calls you 'Eames' and never 'Alex' when you've been calling him Bobby from week two?"

Alex furrowed her brow, "So _that's_ why I can't get him to call me Alex."

Wilma nodded, "That and he knew someone once whose name was Alex. He wasn't very nice to Bobby."

"Who was he?" Alex asked, wondering how far she could push her partner's sister into revealing things about Bobby's past.

Wilma shook her head, a slight smile playing on her face, "That's his story to tell."

Just then their waitress came up to see if the two women were ready to order. Throughout their meal the conversation turned to more trivial matters.

---

When Alex arrived at her townhouse that night, she was surprised to find her partner sitting outside on the steps in the chilly spring air. "What are you doing, Bobby?" she asked as she moved past him to open the door and disable her alarm.

He got up to follow her and soon the two were inside where he said, "I … uh … I needed to talk to you."

She ushered him inside, "How long have you been sitting out there?"

Bobby looked at her sheepishly as he realized he didn't exactly know, but it had been more than a few hours because they had left work at five and it was now nearing eleven. Alex just rolled her eyes, "Come on, I'll make us some tea. It'll warm you up."

The two sat in silence at Alex's kitchen table as they drank their tea. Eames knew her partner well enough to know he'd talk when he was ready to talk, and she also knew that if she pushed him when he wasn't ready it would back fire in her face.

At long last Bobby said, "Do you remember the Morris Abernathy case? You-you said I did a good job t-talking to that homeless man?"

She nodded, "You said you had a lot of practice."

Bobby looked down at his hands, not _wanting_ to tell her what he had meant, but knowing that he _had_ to let her know. It had taken five weeks and many, _many_ long conversations with Wilma for him to reach the conclusion that he had to trust Eames enough to stay when she knew about his mother's illness.

Slowly, he started speaking, "When I was seven my mother started showing signs … of schizophrenia. My … father," he spat the word as if it were a curse, "left us when I was eleven and my older brother left not too long after that. It was just … me and Mom until I joined the Army."

Alex didn't know what to say. This was … unexpected to say the least. Goren _never_ talked about his family and childhood. That he was doing so now was … she felt honored that he trusted her enough to let her in. She got up from her seat and walked around the table to stand in front of her timid partner.

Eames took a hand and raised Bobby face so their eyes met. She saw fear in his eyes and worry. What he was worried about she didn't know, but she knew he was going to bolt if she didn't say something soon.

Since she didn't know what to say: she gave him a hug. She felt him tense beneath her arms for a few minutes before finally relaxing and snaking his own arms around her tiny waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

Alex pulled back a little, to look at Bobby's face. She smiled at him slightly. "Thank you, Bobby."

He furrowed his brow slightly, confusion evident, "For what?"

"Trusting me enough to tell me."

"Y-you're not going to ask Deakins for a new partner?" Bobby asked, hope and fear clouding his eyes.

Now it was Alex's turn to look confused, "Why would I do that? Because you had a crappy childhood and had to take care of your sick mother when you should have been just being a kid?" She shook her head, "I'm not going to ask Deakins for a new partner, Bobby." She shrugged slightly, "I've grown quite fond of the one I have right now, anyway. I'd hate to have to break in a new one."

Her eyes danced with humor as he processed what she said. She could see the emotions flashing across his face as he tried to decide whether she was being serious or not. Finally he chose to take it as a joke and relaxed again.

After a few more minutes Bobby stood, "I … uh … I better get going."

"Why?" Alex asked, "I have a spare bedroom and it's late. By the time you got home you'd be too wired to get much sleep anyway, Bobby."

"Are you sure?" Goren asked, furrowing his brow again. He liked his partner and didn't want to screw up their partnership over something like the little fluttering in his stomach whenever he saw her smile.

Alex nodded, "Yep. I'll even let you make me breakfast in the morning," she said with a grin as she led him down the hall to the spare room. "Bathroom's over there and there should be some extra blankets on the shelf in the closet." She smiled cheekily again, "Try not to use all the hot water in the morning."

Goren just shook his head, "Don't worry, Eames. I was in the Army – I know how to take thirty second showers."

She tsked at him as she walked out of the room, "Slacker."

* * *

A/N: Please review! I'm going to try to get this done by the new year. I have finals this week (just two) and then I'm done for the semester, so I should have more time to write. 


	10. Wonder Woman

A/N: Well, here it is. This is posted because I just took my very last final of the semester and I wanted to celebrate without gaining the weight I would if I ate cake.

* * *

The next morning, when Bobby woke up, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he had actually slept mostly through the night – waking only once to a nightmare he had quickly forgotten. He rolled out of the bed and noticed a suit bag hanging on the closet door with a note attached to it. _"Bobby – I asked Wilma to stop by your apartment to get you a suit this morning so you could sleep in. I expect breakfast at seven. – Alex."_

Bobby smiled slightly at the presumptions his partner had made. Not that he minded, of course. He was quite happy that Alex was finding her own comfort level with him the involved him making her breakfast and not minding that he spent the night in her spare room. Bobby looked at his clock and noted that it was six-thirty. Time to shower before he started making breakfast.

After showering quickly as he told Eames he would the night before, Bobby dressed in his suit, leaving his tie and jacket off as he went to make breakfast. He was a little surprised to find an order request from Eames waiting for him on the door of the refrigerator: "I'm expecting scrambled eggs; waffles and coffee made just the way I like it. Hop to it, Goren!"

Bobby chuckled as he rolled up his sleeves and set about making breakfast before his partner woke up.

---

Wilma glared at all she passed, embarrassed to be out in the March weather dressed as ridiculously as she was in the costume Jeremy had insisted she wear to his super hero themed seventh birthday party. It had been a miracle Steven had even consented to let Jeremy have a party at Wilma's apartment, and no way in _hell_ was she going to screw it up. She made a promise to herself that the party she gave him would be the best he'd ever had in his seven years. Somehow he had convinced Fin (read: begged and pleaded until the man gave in) to come as the Green Lantern and Bobby to dress up as Captain America. With both men on his side, it didn't take very long for the three of them to convince Wilma that she really _wanted_ to dress up in the skimpy Wonder Woman costume for the party.

"Wow, Wilma, I didn't know you had a secret life," Rick Nolan joked when he saw his partner walk up to the crime scene dressed as Wonder Woman.

Wilma raised an eyebrow at him, "You've met my son, Rick. When he wants Mommy to dress up like Wonder Woman because he thinks she _is_ Wonder Woman it's rather … _difficult_ to find it in yourself to say no." At the look one of the techs was giving her she turned to him and said, "_What_? Haven't you ever heard of a themed birthday party for a seven-year-old! What's the deal, Rick?" she asked, turning her attention back to the body on the ground and her partner.

Rick shook his head slightly to get the scary image of his very angry partner with a whip out of his mind before saying, "Thirty-year-old woman found dead by her two children and her sister. The kids are in there with their aunt – I thought you might want to talk to them - and the woman's over here." He paused before saying; "I can go talk to them if you want, Wilma."

She shook her head, "No. Just let me get a look at the body and I'll talk to the kids."

Wilma looked at the crime scene through her detective persona, never once letting it slip and letting the mother in her out. The woman, Veronica Stephens, was strangled to death and her body mutilated and raped. It was difficult to tell what had been done pre-mortem and what had been done post, but Wilma could see so much anger in the scene that it made her head spin.

A drop of something hit her head and the detective glanced up only to see a growing stain of red appearing on the ceiling. "Rick," she called, pointing up. "Go see who lives up there. Take some uniforms with you, too."

Rick gulped, only just then noticing the stain. He nodded, "You talk to the kids and their aunt." He stopped to grasp at Wilma's arm, "We'll find this guy, Will. It's what we do."

Wilma nodded, knowing he was right, before she went off to check on the children and their aunt. She walked into the kitchen where the three were situated and noticed right away how the two children clung to their aunt like a life preserver. The little boys were seven and four, causing Wilma's heart to constrict in her chest as she wondered if one day Jeremy would find her like that. She prayed to God he'd never have to go through that.

With a small smile, Wilma sat down, retrieving her badge from the costume belt and handing it to the boys to look at, "Hi. I'm Detective Wilma Carson."

"Are you going to find the bad guys who did this to our mommy?" the older boy asked.

Wilma nodded, "Yeah, I am." She paused before asking, "What makes you think there was more than one bad guy?"

The boy shrugged, handing her badge to his younger brother, "There were three guys visiting Mommy yesterday. That's why we went with Auntie Chelsea today."

Chelsea Rogers, Veronica's older sister, squeezed her nephew's shoulder lightly, "It's okay, Kyle. It wasn't your fault. You know that."

"Kyle," Wilma said, adjusting herself in her seat before continuing, "That's a very nice name. What's your name?" she asked the younger brother.

"Cody," the little boy replied, his hand clutching the badge like it was the most important thing in the world. "Are you really a super hero?" he asked, his voice small, vulnerable and scared. So scared that the bad guys who had killed his mommy would come back for him and his brother.

Wilma never broke eye contact with the little boy as she said, "No, I'm not a super hero. But it is my job to catch the bad guys so they can't anybody else." She leaned forward, one of her hands cover both of Cody's, "Everything's going to be okay, Cody. We'll get the bad guys."

Chelsea gave her nephews one last squeeze before saying, "Guys? Why don't you go pack some of your clothes?"

Wilma nodded, "That's a good idea. Frankie," she called to one of the CSI workers, "Can you take them to get some of their clothes?" he nodded, leading the two boys through the living room while blocking their view of the mutilated body of their mother.

The detective turned back to Chelsea. "I noticed some pictures of Saint Mary and Saint John Francis Regis … was Veronica raising the boys Catholic?"

Chelsea nodded, tears in her eyes, "She was a good Catholic girl. I don't know who would do something like this to her."

Wilma sighed, "Did Veronica have any enemies?"

Chelsea shook her head, prompting Wilma to ask, "Why _did_ you have the boys today?"

"Veronica asked me to take them to the zoo. She had promised them that they could go today … but then something came up."

"Did she tell you what it was?"

"No. All she said was that she had to stay at home and she didn't want to break her promise to Kyle and Cody."

"Okay." Wilma saw Rick walk back into the room, his face deathly white. Wilma handed Chelsea her card, saying, "If you remember anything else … or if something happens that you find suspicious; just call me."

Chelsea nodded as Wilma walked over to her partner. "What did you find?" she whispered softly.

Rick's eyes told his horror as he said, "Six more dead bodies, each one piled on top of the others. It looks like the perp wasn't expecting Chelsea and the boys to come back so soon. They wanted us to find Veronica in the room above with the others."

"Shit," Wilma said, closing her eyes for a moment as the full force of the news hit her. She had to track down a _serial_ killer? This close to the date of the custody hearing? Not good. Not good at all.

"Will," Rick said softly, pulling his partner out of her revelry. "I think we should call Major Case."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly very angry and very defensive, "Because it's a serial killer? Because –"

"Because all of the victims were acting as undercover spies for one branch of the government or another," Rick whispered back harshly. "We don't need this press, Will."

She took in a shaky breath and nodded, "Okay. Call Van Buren and let her know."

---

When Wilma walked back into her apartment, she found Bobby waiting for her in the living room while Jeremy played with some of his new toys and Fin cleaned up some of the trash. She gave them a weary look as she plopped down into one of the overstuffed chairs she loved so much.

"Where did Alex go?" Wilma asked after she had retrieved some level of control over her raging emotions.

Jeremy looked up and smiled toothily at his mother, "Aun' Alex went to change outta her cos'ume."

Wilma smiled slightly at her son's mispronunciation of the words before saying, "I think I'll go do the same. Be right back."

When Wilma had retreated into her bathroom to wash the blood out of her hair, she crumpled onto the floor, unable to do more than sob heavily as the image of that woman lying dead in her living room came back, along with the pictures of the saints adorning her home, and the two little boys wanting to know why their mommy had been killed so brutally when she was the best mommy in the world.

That was how Fin found her when he came looking after she had failed to reappear. He gathered her up into his arms, allowing her to cry on his shoulder as she let the tension just flood out of her body.

"Bad case?" he asked after she had quieted down.

Wilma nodded, "Serial killer. We sent it over to Major Case." Her bloodshot eyes met Fin's, "One of the victims was found by her two sons – seven and four."

Fin's only response was to hold her tighter, planting a small kiss on her forehead as she held on for dear life.

"Oh, crap!" she said after a few minutes more of silence.

"What?"

"I forgot to get my badge back from one of the boys!"

* * *

A/N: Chelsea and the boys may make a return appearance. What do you think? I really couldn't think of any good black, male super heros, so Fin became the Green Lantern b/c I like him ... even if he is blond haired/blue eyed.

If you're still reading, please review.


	11. Really Mean Lawyers

A/N: I know this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but ... well, you'll see.

* * *

What the hell was going on? It was the million-dollar question in Deakins' mind as he walked into the courtroom, trying to find his two errant detectives.

"All rise," the bailiff said as the judge entered the courtroom. Deakins spotted Goren and Eames sitting in the front row of the nearly deserted room in family court. What they were doing _there_, not answering their cell phones, was what he was determined to find out.

The judge sat before calling the two parties to attention, "Mr. Boufe, I can understand your reluctance to let your ex-wife hold custody of your son, but I can also understand, Ms. Carson, your desire to be a part of your son's life. Every child needs a loving father _and_ mother. Mr. Boufe, what I can not understand is your reluctance to let your ex-wife play even a small part in the upbringing of your son."

He sighed, shifting in his seat, "It is therefore my decision, and the decision of the state of New York that custody of Jeremy Sean Carson-Boufe will be split equally between his two parents; with the specifics to be drawn up by the two custodians at a later time. Next case," he banged the gavel and soon Wilma was grinning and hugging her lawyer and her brother with relief.

"Thank you so much, John," Wilma said, her eyes falling on the gray haired man approaching them with curiosity. "Bobby? Isn't that your captain?"

Bobby and Alex glanced back at the approaching form, Bobby's hand immediately moving the check his cell phone. When he found it off, he smiled sheepishly at his captain, "Sorry, Captain Deakins, I must have turned it off when we got in."

Deakins shook his head at the pair as the group walked from the courtroom and into the corridor, "Yeah, well it's a good thing Harrison is in court today and he saw you two. Otherwise you might actually be in trouble."

"The great and mighty Goren in _trouble _for something he did?" sneered a voice from behind the group, "Shocking."

Wilma tensed at her ex-husband's words before turning to face him, "Is that what this is about, Steven? The fact that I'm related to a man _you_ can't stand? Didn't you ever even stop to consider the fact that Bobby is _Jeremy's_ uncle? Are you really that petty to try to keep me from my son because Bobby put some of your _clients_ in prison?"

Steven shook his head, "This isn't about Goren, Wilma. This is about you working too much and not caring enough about what happens to Jeremy."

Her eyes turned dark and cold. She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again in an effort not to let her anger get away from her. However, Alex had no such problems speaking, "You're an ass, you know that, councilor? Class A – _ass_. The only reason you don't want Wilma around Jeremy is because you can't _stand_ to think that she's a better parent than you are."

Wilma's calming hand on Alex's shoulder was all that stopped the small, fiery woman from continuing her tirade. She turned to her ex and his attorney and said with an impassive face, "I'm off work on Thursday and Friday next week. Find a time on one of those days to figure out the specifics of the custody agreement and call me."

Steven recognized the dismissing tone in her voice, but couldn't stand to leave without one final comment, "I guess I should be thankful that it's a father you two share, and not his mother." Without another word Steven and his friend turned and walked out of the court building.

Deakins could barely contain his fury at the words spoken by the defense attorney about his detective, and when he finally turned his attention back to the three by his side (John had left to get across town for another meeting he had) he found Bobby and Wilma alternately reciting something that sounded rather odd.

"Ununbium."

"Unununium."

"Ununium."

"Meitnerium."

"Hassium."

"Bohrium."

"Seaborgium."

"What is that?" Deakins asked the pair as he watched them toss the words back and forth like pros.

"The Periodic Table of Elements backwards," Alex explained, "They're working on memorizing it like that as an anger management tool."

"Oh," Deakins replied, turning his attention to Bobby and Wilma, "Is it working?"

Bobby shrugged, "I guess so. Steven's still alive."

"And I haven't castrated him with a rusty spoon yet," Wilma added with a smirk. She held out her hand to Deakins, "I'm Wilma Carson, Bobby's sister."

Deakins nodded once, the puzzle pieces clicking together in his mind, "And Steven Boufe is your ex-husband?"

Wilma nodded, "Unfortunately. But I got my son out of it. He's seven years old son - that's what this was all about, Captain Deakins."

"Custody hearing," he nodded in understanding. "Sorry to have to tear your brother away from you right now, but –" he turned his attention to his two detectives, "They found a body by the Bronx River. You two are on."

Wilma's phone rang before she could do anything in acknowledgement other than nod. "Carson?"

"Will? It's Fin. Listen, I need your help with a case."

"What's wrong?" Wilma asked, sending a small smile to her brother and his partner before turning to head out to her car. "I just got done with the custody hearing."

"How'd that go?"

"Joint custody, just like we wanted. Now, what do you need?"

"When you were a kid, you said your mom used a specific perfume when she had fancy dates – the one that lady was wearing next to us in the restaurant on Friday that smells like gardenias and jasmine?"

"_Bandit_ by Robert Piquet. Why?"

"Do you know, by any chance, when that was released?"

Wilma furrowed her brow, "1944. Fin, what's this about?"

"An old man with a fetish for young girls, cashmere and that perfume."

"Oh," Wilma said. "See you tonight, right?"

"Six o'clock if I can make it. Call me later to make sure."

"Sure. Bye."

---

Bobby and Alex arrived at Wilma's apartment a few days later, after arresting Jay Lippman for murder. "So," he started as they waited for someone to open the door, "Do you still have that skirt?"

Alex rolled her eyes, mumbling, "Maybe."

"Can I see you in it?" Bobby asked. When Alex raised her eyebrows at him, he realized just how that sounded and blushed deep red, "I – I didn't –"

"Bobby, quit apologizing for things we all know you meant _completely_," Wilma said as she opened the door wider for the pair to come inside.

Fin couldn't help but laugh when he saw the shade of red the big detective had turned. "Will, stop tormenting your brother and come tell me if this is done."

Wilma rolled her eyes, "Is the inside of the chicken white?"

"You tell me. It looks … yeah, okay, it's white."

"Then it's done. Did you guys want something to drink?" Wilma asked as she ushered the pair into the dining room, where Fin was putting the chicken cacciatore in the middle of the table.

Alex nodded as Wilma asked, "I have strawberry margaritas made up." When Alex nodded again, empathetically, Wilma smirked and went to go get the requested alcohol. "What about you, Bobby? Scotch on the rocks or Guinness?"

"Guinness," Bobby responded, hanging up Alex's jacket on the coat rack before hanging up his own.

"So? What'd you guys want to talk to us about?" Alex asked as the four of them sat down around Wilma's antique cherry wood table.

Wilma and Fin exchanged a look before he said, "We're getting married."

* * *

A/N: I REALLY hope I got those elements right. I think I did (considering I have a periodic table on my wall) but I may have misspelled them. Please review and tell me what you think. 


	12. Healing the Hurt

A/N: I clicked the fast forward button again.

* * *

Bobby sighed as he rolled over in his bed, his eyes coming to rest on the picture he had swiped from Wilma's photo album. He wouldn't have taken it, but it was a copy and she had told him to take the ones he wanted … after all, it may have been her wedding to become Mrs. Wilma Tutuola, but he was her brother and should have _some_ personal photos around his apartment. It was a candid of Alex and Bobby dancing at Wilma and Fin's reception. The unknown photographer capturing a grinning Alex as Bobby dipped her down near the floor at the end of a song.

The ceremony and following reception had been four months prior to this particular sleepless night. Wilma and Fin were happy in their new marriage and everything seemed to be working perfectly.

And then _she_ popped up. The devil's playmate: Nicole Wallace. Of course, she kept on insisting she was named Elizabeth Hitchens – but Bobby knew. She knew that he knew … but she still kept up the damn game of cat and mouse. It was almost like a dance – how their mind games worked. He'd advance, she'd retreat, then she'd come up and side step him on the right, when he was expecting her on the left.

Damn bitch.

No one had seen it coming. The extradition request from Australia … the murders in Thailand. Nicole was gone before Bobby and Alex were able to put the pieces together. She was gone, leaving this … _thing_ gnawing at Bobby's mind constantly in her place.

He needed to do something. Deakins had given him the next two days off – but what the hell was he supposed to do with two days without work? He could call up Lewis and spend the afternoon with him and Johnny … but they'd end up asking about his job and why he was acting so quiet and 'moody'.

Bobby knew that Wilma had trouble sleeping through the night. Maybe he could spend some time talking about things with her? She had her Ph.D. after all. Maybe it would help him gain some perspective on recent events.

His mind made up, Bobby threw back the duvet covering his lanky body, and turned on the bedside lamp. Soon he was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, the Burberry jacket Wilma and Fin had given him for his birthday thrown on over his clothes. Within ten minutes of getting out of bed, he was out the door, on his way across town.

---

"I just don't understand why he won't talk to me about it!" Alex complained over the piping hot cup of lemon tea. She look over at Wilma, who was stirring in the milk she had just added to cool it down. "I mean – he's been my partner for over a year and this is the result? He … he just infuriates me sometimes! _Everybody_ makes mistakes."

Wilma nodded, finally looking up to meet the other detective's eyes. Alex had sought refuge at Wilma and Fin's new townhouse (just a few doors down from her own) after the devil's whore had disappeared. "Alex, try looking at this from his perspective: this woman came in – a genius in her own right – and just _ran_ mental laps around him. It's not very often that someone finds Robert Goren's secrets and weaknesses … and she did it in spades."

Alex sighed, sipping her overly honeyed tea, "I know. But it just … infuriates me that he won't talk about it!"

Their conversation was about to continue when there was a hesitant knock on the door. Wilma got up to answer it, only to find the topic of their conversation standing on the other side. Wordlessly she let her older brother inside, bolting the door shut behind him.

When she had him situated next to Alex at the table with a cup of black tea warming his hands, Wilma reclaimed her seat with a sigh. "Okay, lay it on me. The doctor is in."

Bobby furrowed his brow for a second, "Where's Fin?"

His sister waved the question off by pointing in the direction of the bedroom, "Sleeping. Unlike some of us, he can actually sleep through the night."

"I wonder if he can sell whatever it is that lets him do that," Alex remarked.

"You mean the sleeping pills he takes after the really tough cases like the one they just closed yesterday?" Wilma asked. "Now, Bobby, Alex, you two need to talk."

"What?" Bobby questioned, "Why do we need to talk?"

The other woman rolled her eyes, "Why are you showing up on my doorstep at two in the morning? Now: what happened with this case? This Nicole Wallace sounds like Satan's newest playmate."

Bobby nodded empathetically, taking a drink of the bitter tea to calm his nerves, "She is. Killed a man to get one of her lovers into a position of power at the university – then killed the other one to keep him quiet about her plans."

"She scared you, both of you." It wasn't a question that Wilma posed, but it did open the doorway to understanding between Alex and Bobby.

"Yeah," he whispered. "She – um – she got a hold of my social security number and my birth date … looked up everything about me that she could."

"Francis?" Bobby nodded.

"What scared you most, Bobby?" Wilma prodded, taking in how concerned Alex was about her partner.

His eyes flickered up to meet hers before turning to look at the diminutive woman beside him. "She's … so similar to me, Will. She said we were the same … and in so many ways we are."

Alex shook her head, her hands resting on either side of Bobby's face, "You _listen_ to _me_ now, Goren. You are _nothing_ like that woman. Your childhood helped make you one of the best detectives I've ever known. She let hers make her a thief, a murderer and a liar. Don't you _dare_ compare yourself to her."

"What scared you the most, Alex?" Wilma's soft voice broke through the agonizing stillness that had enveloped the pair.

Unshed tears filled Alex's eyes as they held on to her partner's gaze forcibly. "The thought that she could take you away from me," she whispered to Bobby, the tears finally falling down her face.

Bobby gathered his partner into his arms, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she cried for what almost had been lost. His heart twisted in his chest at the idea of losing either woman with him. At the thought of his sister, Bobby's eyes flickered up to meet hers. She smiled slightly at him, motioning that they could sleep in the spare room, or let themselves out, before turning to walk down the hallway and join her husband in the land of Nodd.

"Alex," he whispered into her hair, "She didn't take me. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She pulled back slightly and sniffed, her bloodshot eyes meeting his. "Good. I don't think I want to train another partner to know me as well as you do. You get me Skittles when I'm PMSing and make me cake."

"Chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting," Bobby specified.

She nodded, smiling slightly, "The best chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting in the world."

"Glad to know I'm good for something other than solving crime." He meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, both could sense the truth of the statement and it frightened them.

Alex leaned forward in his arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck, "You're good for lots of things other than solving crimes, Bobby."

"Other than cooking, name one."

Knowing that he needed the reassurance her words would bring him, Alex snuggled deeper into his arms, "You make a great pillow, blanket and heating pad all in one."

Bobby chuckled, "Come on, Partner, I'll walk you home."

She snuggled deeper, refusing to let go of her hold now that she was finally comfortable. "Only if you don't plan on leaving before the sun's up. I'll even let you make me breakfast in the morning."

Bobby smiled as he carefully stood with his partner in his arms like a child. "Deal, Eames. I'll keep you warm tonight and make you breakfast in the morning."

"It's a wonder you're not already married, Bobby," Alex mumbled as she succumbed to the sleep that had evaded her until she could hear this man's heartbeat beneath her ear.

True to his word, Bobby didn't leave Alex turning the night. He didn't sleep either – well, not that he remembered, anyway. His mind was still heavy from everything that had happened with Nicole … but now he had this wonderful woman to look out for him. And for that he was very thankful.

* * *

A/N: The idea behind both Bobby and Alex seeking Wilma out after a difficult case actually came to me because two of my friends just had a major falling out - over a guy, no less - and I'm the buffer. Lucky me.

Please review.


	13. She's MINE! No, She's MINE!

A/N: Fast forward to middle of season three. I just _really_ wanted to see Van Buren and Deakins go at it.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Captain Deakins, but you _can't_ _have her_!" Van Buren adamantly told the senior officer. 

Deakins rose from his seat, "She's good – almost as good as her brother. She _needs_ to be on Major Case!"

"Detective Tutuola _needs_ to be where she is right now," Van Buren insisted. "I don't care how good Detective Goren is, Wilma Tutuola is one of the best detectives I have and I'm _not_ giving her up just because you've gotten it into your head that she's that good. You had your chance three years ago."

There was a tentative knock on the door and Wilma poked her head through, "Lieutenant? We got the girl responsible for the Project Homicides in the Bronx."

Van Buren nodded, sending a glare to Deakins before saying, "I'll call McCoy. Wilma?"

"Yes, ma'am?" Wilma asked.

"Come in here for a moment," the lieutenant beckoned the younger detective inside.

"Ma'am?" Wilma asked, "I have an interrogation to prepare for. Will this take long?"

"Have a seat, Wilma," Anita Van Buren motioned, "Detective Nolan can get the interview started without you. I'm sure you know Captain Deakins."

Wilma nodded, sending a slight smile to the captain, "Hello, Captain. What's this about? Did something happen to Bobby?"

Deakins shook his head, "No, no, Goren's fine. Actually, Lt. Van Buren and I were just having a … discussion about you maybe moving over to Major Case."

Wilma's head snapped up to look at her boss, "Why? Did I do something wrong? Was there a complaint filed against me?"

"No, nothing like that," Van Buren assured her, "Captain Deakins just thinks that your … talents would be better utilized in Major Case than they are here."

That just confused Wilma even more, "I just got back from maternity leave and you want me to move to _Major Case_? Captain Deakins, with respect, sir, that's a load of bull."

Deakins furrowed his brow, "Why's that, Detective?"

"A few reasons, actually: First; the only reason you want me on MCS is because you want the solve rate of Major Case to _not_ solely be resting on my brother's shoulders. Second; when I came back to work yesterday Rick gave me a very big hug in front of everyone and made me promise not to leave him with idiots again. Third; the 2-7 is closer to SVU and I like it better."

"You like it better?" Deakins asked, making sure he heard her correctly.

"Don't look at me like that, Captain Deakins. By staying here, I run a lower chance of ever having to face my ex-husband in court – where as in Major Case, he's already defended _ten_ clients within the last year alone."

"You really think the only reason I want you on my squad is because of your brother?" Deakins asked, leaning forward slightly.

Wilma shook her head, "No, but it's one of the big ones. I'm sorry, Captain Deakins, but Lt. Van Buren was right – I'm _not_ going to be leaving Homicide any time soon."

"You don't want to leave Homicide, or you don't want to leave your partner?" Deakins questioned, his eyes taking in Wilma's reaction to the words carefully.

The woman stiffened and glared at the higher-ranking officer, "If you're insinuating an inappropriate relationship between Detective Nolan and myself, Captain Deakins, you _obviously_ haven't seen us around each other and you obviously _don't_ know the power of a good left hook."

Deakins grinned at that, "Don't worry, Detective, I'm not insinuating anything. But if it _is_ your partner you're hesitant about leaving, I'm sure we can make room for the both of you over at Major Case."

Wilma shook her head again, "My answer's still no. Major Case is fine with Bobby. It would become too much of a … sibling rivalry for me to be posted there with him."

With a nod Deakins said, "I think I can accept that for the time being. But can you _please_ talk to him about being nicer to his temporary partner while Detective Eames is on maternity leave? Detective Bishop is about ready to quit."

Wilma chuckled, "Sure, Captain. I'll see what I can do."

---

"You know, Bobby, it's not very nice to treat your partners like they don't exist," Wilma said when she stopped by One Police Plaza during her lunch break that day. She handed him the sub she had stopped to get for him and plopped down in Alex's vacant desk. "She's coming back in a few months."

Lynn Bishop watched the interaction and thought that Goren would snap at the woman for sitting in 'beloved Eames' desk. But to her surprise, he didn't. "How's Kali doing?" he changed the topic.

Wilma shrugged as she bit into her own sub, "She's a baby – she sleeps, tries to one-up Mom by waking her up at two-thirty in the morning." The unknown woman sitting in Alex Eames' desk grinned, "But lucky for Fin I was already awake and cut her off right _before_ she started screaming."

"I'm not treating Eames like she doesn't exist," Bobby protested, shuffling in his seat to get more comfortable.

The woman smiled knowingly, "That wasn't the partner I was talking about." She turned her attention onto Lynn (who was eating some unknown grain dish at her desk), "You must be Detective Bishop. I'm Wilma Tutuola – Bobby's little sister."

Lynne nodded in greeting, "It's nice to meet you."

Turning her attention back to her brother, Wilma added, "And according to Captain Deakins –that's _exactly_ what you're doing."

"He went to see you about me?" Bobby asked, feeling bile rise to his mouth at the thought of his captain going behind his back like that.

She shook her head, "Nope. He came to see Van Buren about getting me to transfer over here so … my abilities are better utilized."

Bobby quirked his mouth into a small smile, "What'd you do?"

"Van Buren and I _politely_ refused." His smile grew and she added, "What? I can be nice when I want to!"

"If you say so, Will," he said with a patronizing nod of his head.

"Oh, you! Bishop, what are you doing for Christmas?" Wilma suddenly changed the subject with ease.

The younger detective shrugged, "I didn't really have any plans. My parents are both dead and I'm an only child."

Wilma nodded, appearing to mull things over before she suddenly proclaimed, "You should spend the holiday with us – and by that I mean, me and my family. I know Fin's been _dying_ to meet the interim partner. You're actually quite infamous, my dear."

Lynn's eyes grew wide and quickly Wilma assured her, "Don't worry, it's a good thing, really. My son, Jeremy, really wants to meet you."

"Why?"

The mother of two shrugged, "He's a ten-year-old boy who has been told all about how Uncle Bobby had to get a temporary partner to replace Aunt Alex while she went on maternity leave to help her sister. That, added to the fact that his father doesn't like you that much makes you the next best thing since sliced bread, Bishop."

"Wait," Bishop asked, trying to get her head around the fact that Goren _talked_ about her to his sister, "Who's his father?"

"Oh, I didn't mention?" Wilma asked, seemingly innocent, "Silly me – Steven Boufe."

Lynn's eyes widened as she remembered the case she had a few years back involving a client of Mr. Boufe's … it hadn't gone down well for the defense attorney.

"Don't worry, Steven won't be there," Wilma assured her after noticing her shocked expression. "And this is really something I'm not going to let you get out of, Detective. No presents are necessary, but Bobby can tell you what my son likes if you want to get him something. Festivities start after work on the 24th for those of us who are on duty. You'll meet Jeremy on the 25th. Have a nice day."

She had just thrown the trash into the garbage can when she looked over Bobby's shoulder at the case, "Huh. I never knew a cheerleader could bend like that."

Bobby and Lynn looked back at the picture of the cheerleader, their minds racing as the crime suddenly clicked into place and he knew what had happened.

* * *

A/N: Ooohhh! Christmas at the Tutuola residence. Care to tune in and see? Review and tell me how much ... and can you give me some feedback about what should happen? I don't celebrate Christmas. 

I'm gonna try to get this story done by the new year (which means I better be spending all my spare time writing) because at the end of January I'm going on hiatus for three and a half months and I don't like leaving WIPs when I'm going to be gone that long.


	14. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

A/N: Once again, I don't celebrate Christmas, so this isn't very Christmas-y, but it's the Christmas chapter and I thought is should go up today anyway.

* * *

"Fin! No! Keep that thing away from me!" Wilma laughed as she ran away from her husband (who happened to be wielding a mixing spoon covered in something he _claimed_ was covered in homemade frosting for the cake he had been making).

She ran into the entry way and almost ran into Bobby and Lynn when she stopped, looked to her right and her left and then darted behind Bobby to escape the Spoon of Doom that was wielded by her playful husband.

When Fin ran into the entryway a few seconds after Wilma's dive to safety, he stopped short and glared at his brother-in-law, "I thought we had a deal, Goren? I don't need _two_ profilers out to get me."

Wilma stuck her head out from behind Bobby's shoulder as the big man shrugged, "Just put the spoon down, Fin. This doesn't have to get messy."

The darker man sighed and lowered the spoon in his hand, taking in the rather overwhelmed looking redhead standing next to Bobby, "Goren, this your temp?"

Bobby nodded, "Yeah, this is Lynn Bishop." He moved past Fin to put the container he was carrying in the kitchen as Fin said hello to the other detective.

Wilma grinned at the younger detective as she made small talk with Fin. She opened her mouth to say something when three things happened at once: the phone rang, the baby started to cry, and someone knocked on the door.

The lady of the house rolled her eyes as she moved to open the door while Fin went to go get the baby, shouting at Bobby to answer the phone on his way to his daughter's nursery (even if she didn't sleep in the nursery during the night, Kali always napped in the 'Animal Room').

"Am I late?" Alex Eames asked Wilma as she walked into the townhouse, a few bottles of apple cider held in her hands.

Wilma grinned, "Nope, you're just on time, actually. Come in, come in. I don't want to have to open the door when John and Olivia get here."

Alex raised her eyebrows, "But you'll open it for me and Rick?"

Wilma shrugged, taking the bottles from Alex as the three women walked into the dining room, where she put the bottles next to ones of some expensive Italian wine Bobby had dropped off earlier. "You're _pregnant_, Alex," she said, as if it explained everything, "and Rick would throw a fit it I left him standing outside in the snow."

Alex Eames chuckled at that, "It's what's partners do."

"What do partners do?" Bobby asked as he walked in, a little green bundle snug in his arms as he greeted his 'real' partner with a smile.

"Throw tantrums and expect everyone to know exactly why their mad and take their side in the argument, of course," Wilma told her brother seriously as she took her daughter from his arms, "Hello, sweetie. Did you have a good nap? You did? Well, there's someone here that you need to meet. Yes, yes, it's another one of Uncle Bobby's friends." She handed the baby to a very hesitant Lynne, "This is Miss Lynn, Kali. Lynn, this is my daughter, Kali Virginia Adelaide Tutuola. She goes by Kali."

Lynn smiled stiffly at the three-month-old baby, saying the first and only thing that came to her mind, "Hi."

Fin and his partner, John Munch, snickered at the woman's reply to the baby girl, but Fin immediately stopped when his wife sent him the infamous "You do that again and you'll be sleeping on the couch until Kali's fifteen" glare that all wives have and perfect after the birth of their first child.

"John," Wilma said, changing the subject off the now beet red detective, "When'd you get in?"

John shrugged, "A few seconds ago. You forgot to lock the door."

"Who the _hell_ is stupid enough to break into a house full of detectives?" Wilma countered to her husband's partner. "And before you say _anything_, that was rhetorical, Bobby – and I _know_ you know what that means."

The bigger detective looked down, a blush spreading across his neck. He muttered something in German and Wilma laughed in response. "No fair using a language only two people in the room understand, Bobby," she chastised as the doorbell rang.

Fin moved to answer the door, but Wilma shook her head and went to do it herself. A few moments later she returned to the festively decorated room with her partner, Detective Rick Nolan, in toe.

"Lynn, this is my partner, Rick Nolan. Rick, this is Bobby's temporary partner, Lynn Bishop," Wilma introduced as Kali started getting fussy again.

"I'll take her," Fin offered as the group settled down to wait for the last of their number to arrive. Kali quieted in her father's arms, her eyes fixated on his face as one of her arms got loose from her blankets and her small hand grabbed the chain he wore around his neck.

Alex felt tears fill her eyes at the sight, her thoughts turning to the child she was carrying for another. Yet again she wondered why she had told her sister 'yes' when she had asked Alex to be surrogate to her child. Why? Just three months after finding out Wilma was pregnant … why?

"So, what movie is up first?" Rick asked, referencing the tradition Wilma had started during her first year in Homicide of watching two Christmas movie classics before eating, and one after before playing some sort of team board game (most often a trivia game that Bobby and Wilma tried to best each other at – after the first year they weren't allowed to play on the same team ever again).

Wilma furrowed her brow, "I don't know. I didn't plan that far ahead – and it would be mean to start the movie without Liv. Was that her on the phone, Bobby?"

"She said she had a family problem and would be a little late – told me not to wait for her. She's not sure when she'll get here," Bobby said quietly.

Wilma nodded with an exasperated sigh, "Family problems, oy. Okay, Alex, since you're the pregnant one, what movie should we start with."

Her answer was instantaneous, "_Meet Me In St. Louis_, of course. I'm in a Judy Garland kind of mood."

"What's that?" Lynn asked with a furrowed brow, "I've never seen that movie before."

"Good Lord!" Rick cried, as if she had just said she'd never been to the beach before, "You've never seen _Meet Me In St. Louis_? That's it, Goren! Where'd Deakins find this woman – a cave?"

"The FBI," he replied with a straight face.

Rick shrugged as John said, "Close enough. Now put the damn movie on so I can go to sleep already."

While Rick was putting the movie on, Alex turned to John, "You know, I don't understand it, Munch. You're Jewish, right? So why do you come to this thing?"

He shrugged, "Why not? It's good company … and free food. Not to mention the cake."

"The cake?" Lynn asked.

Wilma grinned, "Bobby happens to be able to make the _best_ chocolate cake in the universe. It's better than the stuff you can get at some five star restaurants."

"_Some_ five star restaurants?" Bobby asked, now incredulous at the accusation his cake wasn't the best in the world.

Wilma sighed before saying, "All right, this side of the Mason Dixon."

Alex snorted at how worked up her partner was getting at his sister's teasing. "Bobby, don't listen to her. There's a reason this kid thinks it's the only thing worth eating half the time."

"And the other half of the time?" Rick asked curiously as the opening credits came on.

Alex shrugged, "Pickles, sardines and whipped cream."

"When I was pregnant with Jeremy it was tuna and chocolate ice cream," Wilma commented. "Used to gross out my partner at work all the time … sometimes he'd let the perps watch me eat for a while just to get them off balance."

"Did it work?" John asked, turning half in his seat to watch his partner's wife.

She nodded, "Ten guys couldn't hold their stomach contents and were willing to confess to everything by the time I was done with lunch."

"_There's_ a nice picture," Rick said as he claimed the open seat next to Lynn, "Now shut up, the movie's on."

* * *

A/N: The song 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' is from the movie _Meet Me In St. Louis_ (it was written for Judy Garland) and even though it's not TECHNACIALLY a Christmas movie, it does have some nice Christmas scenes. Please review. 


	15. The Beginning

A/N: Just to clarify, I'm going mostly cannon for Criminal Intent and I'm REALLY JUST PLAYING with the characters from Special Victims Unit.

* * *

By the time the third movie was on, Alex was starting to doze on the sofa where she was firmly ensconced between one end of the sofa and Bobby. He looked down at his sleeping partner, tuning out the sounds from _It's a Wonderful Life_ as he watched her nod off to sleep.

With a sigh that he didn't want to wake her, Bobby patted her arm softly, "Eames. Come on – I'll walk you home."

She shook her head, much to the amusement of the other six individuals watching the scene, "No. I'm comfy." She burrowed deeper into his side, refusing to be awakened for any man.

"Come on, partner," he said, shifting his weight as he got up.

When the absence of her big, incredibly warm pillow hit her, Alex opened her eyes and glared at him, "Meany."

His mouth quirked in a small smile as he retorted, "As I hear all the time from Jeremy when I won't let him hold my gun. Now come on, you'll be more comfortable in your bed and not on _that_ thing."

"Hey!" Fin and Wilma both protested weakly. Wilma went on to say, "At least it's more comfortable than _your_ sofa, Bobby."

Bobby just rolled his eyes as he helped Alex stand and put her coat on. "See you tomorrow, Will."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," his sister responded, waving at them to go on and leave.

Lynn watched the pair leave before turning to look at Wilma, "He's going to _walk_ her home? In this weather?"

"Alex only lives a few houses down," Wilma replied with clear eyes.

"Oh," Lynn said, turning her attention back to the movie.

Liv touched Wilma's arm, getting her attention and asking in a low voice, "Can I talk to you, Wilma?"

Wilma nodded, motioning for Olivia to follow her into the kitchen. "What is it, Liv?"

"Um," Olivia started, not really sure where to begin, "I … uh, I had a doctors appointment today. My gynecologist … I have a tumor on one of my ovaries … it's benign, but I still have to get surgery to remove it."

"Liv …" Wilma whispered, grasping the other woman's hand in one of her own.

Olivia shook her head, "That's not the scary part, Wilma … I have no clue how to tell Eliot that I have to do it."

Wilma nodded, looking down, "How do you think he'll react?"

Olivia sighed, "I don't know. So much of the time he's such a loose cannon … do you know how Alex told Bobby she was going to be her sister's surrogate?"

Wilma furrowed her brow, "I don't think you should do what she did, Liv. It might give Eliot a heart attack."

Liv looked up at that, "What'd she do?"

Wilma furrowed her brow again, "She … uh … she kinda used it to gain the upper hand with a suspect. They were undercover as a married couple and she … kinda told the suspect that she was pregnant to get the guy to falter. The perp … kinda assumed that Bobby was the father."

"What happened?" Liv asked, riveted by the story.

"They almost got written up for fraternization."

"Almost?"

"Alex's sister verified the situation before it got out of hand."

"Oh." Liv shifted in her seat, "What am I going to tell him?"

"Tell who what?" Fin asked as he walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"She has to tell Eliot that she needs surgery," Wilma explained, leaving out much of the information that Fin didn't need to know.

"What? Stabler's gonna freak."

Olivia nodded, "That's the problem."

"Liv, you just need to tell 'im," Fin said, "He'll take it better if you just tell 'im right out and don't try t' hide it."

Liv nodded, "Thanks." She looked over at her watch, "It's getting late, I better get going. Unlike _some_ of you, I have to work in the morning."

---

Bobby smiled when he got the text message that Alex had given birth. That meant she'd be back at work soon … and he could go back to making cake once a month.

He watched her laying on her hospital bed, the stretched skin of her stomach deflated with the absence of her baby nephew. Her face looked equally deflated from all internal light as she lay there alone, for all purposes desolate. She had given part of herself away in the most selfless gift imaginable … and she felt like a horrible, terrible person because another part of her wondered why she couldn't keep for herself the little boy she had nurtured for nine months.

As he stood there, watching her as she watched the shadows flitter across the wall in front of her, a part of him clicked and the realization that struck him was so powerful it caused him to stagger back a few steps. He _couldn't_ be … That was impossible!

_If it's so impossible then why are you, dumb ass? _a voice inside his head told him … a voice that sounded remarkably similar to Wilma when she was in psychologist mode.

He was just getting up the nerve to turn around and leave when Eames turned her head and looked straight at him. They stayed like that for who knew how long, their eyes silently telling the story their lips never could speak. Then she smiled.

It was a small smile, hesitant and still full of so much pain and emptiness - but it was a smile that told him that he was needed, and wouldn't be turned away. He returned it with less hesitation, his feet automatically leading him to the chair placed by her hospital bed. The chair that seemed to be calling his name.

---

Alex sat cuddled next to Bobby on her sofa, watching as he surfed the channels for the illusive show to occupy his attention as one of her hands traced random figures on his knee in a comforting, familiar gesture. Despite all the pain and loneliness she was suffering from as a result of her 'gift' to her sister and brother-in-law, Alex refused to regret it.

Her maternity leave (which was going to end in less than a week whether Deakins thought so or not) from work had caused her to realize something: she missed her big, bumbling oaf of a partner. But it was more than that – she didn't just miss him; she _needed_ him. Alexandra Eames, who had vowed never to need a man again after the death of her husband five years before, needed Robert Goren in her life. As something more than just a partner.

She was in love with him. And it scared the _shit_ out of her.

Unconsciously, her hand began to travel up his thigh, into unknown, dangerous territory. She felt rather than heard his breath hitch in his throat as one of his much larger hands grabbed her own, forcing it to halt.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low with a hint of something primal in it.

She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes as she responded, "Nothin'."

His thumb started rubbing her hand as he responded, "This isn't 'nothing' Eames. It's a very dangerous _something_."

"Why don't you ever call me Alex?" she suddenly asked, flattening her palm against his warm thigh as she cocked her head to one side in a manner that spoke of how much time she really spent with him.

His eyes darted away, to look just behind her shoulder at the book-covered wall that lay on the other side of the room. "I like calling you Eames." Sheepishly he met her eyes again and confessed, "No one else does."

A smile tugged at her lips as she thought through it all and realized that it was true – no one else (aside from Deakins calling them into his office for a new case) called her Eames. It was always either _Detective_ Eames, or Alex. Simply _Eames_ was something only Bobby did.

Her hand started their movement again, and this time he didn't stop her. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked as her hand moved further up his thigh, closer and closer to areas she really _shouldn't_ be thinking about.

"No," he whispered with a slight shake of his head, his eyes never leaving hers as he silently told her how much he loved her and needed her, and she silently responded that she loved him just as much and would never leave again.

* * *

A/N: BA fluff! Yay! Did you like it? 


	16. Child Killer

A/N: This is NOT turning into a case file ... but the case they will work on in the next few chapters gets us moving toward the conclusion of my story.

And on the side note of reviews: Wow, I haven't gotten that many reviews since chapter one! Keep it up!

* * *

Weeks turned into months and life gradually shifted to a new feeling of normal for the detectives. Fin gradually got used to being woken up at one in the morning by his daughter's crying as she waited for someone to get the memo and go feed her; Bobby and Alex got back into the swing of things in their partnership as their new relationship was kept tightly under wraps; Olivia found the perfect way to tell Eliot that she had a tumor and it was removed without difficulty; and Wilma got used to the bimonthly request from Deakins that she be transferred to Major Case. 

Oh, don't get the wrong idea now, nothing is _perfect_: Bobby and Alex still fought over things and suspects; Steven still got in the way of Wilma and Fin actually _going_ on a family vacation with Jeremy; Rick's new relationship with Lynn Bishop caused some strife between the partners … and then the case came.

It was a case no one wanted, but Wilma and Rick took for the sake of finding the monster that could do something so heinous. A young boy was found murdered behind the private school he had attended. Wilma took one look at the corpse before she realized why they had been asked to take the case: the dead boy was Cody Stephens.

"Oh my God," Rick said when he saw the dead boy, "Isn't that one of the kids from three years ago?"

Wilma nodded, "Cody Stephens." She turned to one of the officers that had arrived first, "I need you to call Chelsea Rogers, here's her number, she's the boy's legal guardian. Let her know what happened and get her down to the 2-7 to ID the body."

The officer nodded and soon Wilma was kneeling beside the dead boy, trying to piece together what had happened to the now seven year old in his last moments of life. "He … Rick?" Wilma trailed off as she lifted one of Cody's – _no_ the corpse's – arms to reveal a very dark bruise that had formed on his ribcage.

Rick swore when he saw the bruise. "Get a picture of that," he ordered one of the CSU techs that were seemingly mulling around the scene.

Wilma leaned closer to Cody's mouth, sniffing for any trace of what had happened to cause this incident. She dropped his arm gently and got up, determination etched in her bones. "We need a tox screen on his blood right away, she ordered another tech before explaining to her partner, "I can smell something in his breath. It's light … but it shouldn't be there to begin with."

"What is it?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. Could be any number of things – medications … seasonings … poison."

"Poison?"

"Could be arsenic."

"I was under the impression you _couldn't_ smell arsenic."

"It has a very slight smell – just enough to point that something's _slightly_ off. You have to be looking for it to notice anything at all."

"Oh."

"Yep."

---

It was her job to pull Kyle Stephens, Cody's older brother by three years, out of his first class of the day before it had even started. It was her job to tell him what had happened to his younger brother. It was her job to make sure he understood that for the third time in his short life he had lost another member of his family.

It was her job, and right then, as she looked at the ten year old boy who reminded her so much of her own son, in that moment she hated it with all her soul.

"You found him?" Kyle asked, his eyes wide and his voice horse from unshed tears.

Wilma nodded, "Was he missing, Kyle?"

The little boy nodded, "He didn't come home from school yesterday and Aunt Chelsea said she was going to call the police. H-how is he?"

The look on her face at the question was all the boy needed. It was the same look in her eyes that had been in his aunt's eyes when she had explained to him three years ago what it meant for a person to die. His brother was dead.

"Kyle … I'm so sorry," Wilma whispered, knowing it wouldn't be enough and also knowing that he needed to hear _someone_ say it – someone who _genuinely_ meant it as deeply as she did.

The boy nodded mutely, his emotions too thick to speak through as he launched himself into the detective's arms, burying his head into her shoulder and allowing himself to succumb to the grief he had been harboring for three long years.

She held onto him just as tightly, rocking slightly as she whispered empty platitudes into his ear in the way his mother would have, had she still been alive.

---

The next day, with no leads and watertight alibis for everyone close to the victim, Wilma and Rick were getting nowhere. That was when, of course, Captain Deakins showed up with a pronouncement: their case was linked to one a pair of his detectives had been working on for the past week and would be added to the Major Case Squad's bundle.

Wilma and Rick were furious.

"At least let us stay on the case," Rick pleaded. "The more people we have working on it, the faster it will go – _especially_ if we're dealing with a serial killer."

"I don't know," Van Buren said, glancing between both her detectives and Deakins before turning to look at Wilma head on. "You both have a pretty heavy caseload right now as it is."

Wilma shook her head, "We broke the Trodson murder case before we were called to the school yesterday; we have a firm suspect in custody already for the Hailey double murders; and the jewelry heist that ended with five dead was already closed. This is it."

Van Buren sighed, turning her attention to Deakins again, "Who do you have working on it at your end?"

"Goren and Eames."

"Think you can work with your brother on this, Tutuola?" Van Buren asked Wilma with a slight smile on her lips.

"Absolutely."

---

Wilma and Rick made the temporary move to One Police Plaza for the case, the four detectives taking over one of the conference rooms as 'headquarters' while they tried to figure out who was going around, kidnapping boys and killing them with a lethal dose of arsenic before dumping them back at their school.

Three boys were already dead … they really needed to stop this guy before a forth was added to their number.

"What makes you so sure it's a guy?" Alex asked her partner and his sister as they stared at the growing profile they were building for the suspect.

Bobby didn't glance away from the corkboard he was adding to as he responded, "The anger … it's too deep to be –"

"No – she's right. It _could_ be a mother who lost her son when he a small."

"But then why isn't she just kidnapping the boys and raising them as her own?"

"Maybe they don't want to play along," Rick commented as he continued his search for arsenic on the web.

"No, no, no," Wilma said, shaking her head as she thought it through, "Bobby's right, it's a man. He was probably abused as a child … and he's taking it out on …"

"Children who have loving families? That doesn't make any sense," Alex commented as she went through the files of the victims again.

Wilma's eyes snapped and met Bobby's, the motive clearing before them. "It's the parents," he said.

She nodded, "Cody's an orphan. What about the other three vics?"

Alex glanced, "James was – in foster care, abandoned as a baby; Howard was – living with his grandfather after his parents died in a car crash five years ago; and Stuart was – also an orphan."

Rick looked up at her then at the two siblings, "So, what? This guy has a thing against kids who've been through hell?"

Wilma shook her head as Bobby whispered, "He thinks he's putting them out of their misery by killing them."

* * *

A/N: Don't forget: reviews are our friends. 


	17. Big Bang

A/N: Thanks for sticking with this story. This chapter is a little ... iffy. Hope you like it.

* * *

Another day passed before a suspect was identified and brought in for questioning. His name was John Henderson and both his parents had abandoned him as a child to the abusive care of his grandmother. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," John said again, his eyes darting around the gray room as his lawyer nervously fidgeted at having to deal with both Wilma Tutuola _and_ Bobby Goren with one case.

Wilma chuckled lightly as Bobby leaned into John's personal space and grinned, "Yes you do, John. You know exactly what we're talking about."

"Maybe he just doesn't remember," Wilma said, opening the file before her that contained the photos of the four dead boys. She put them on the table in front of Henderson, "Does this help?"

He refused to look at the mutilated bodies of the dead children, not answering her question verbally. Bobby pointed to the picture of the first victim, James Smith. "You broke both his legs before giving him the arsenic, John. Was that to remind yourself of the – the _helplessness_ you felt when your grandmother broke your legs when you were seven? What about Howard Wagner? You punctured one of his lungs."

"Just like your grandmother did to you when you were nine," Wilma said, her voice cold and yet not betraying the sickening anger she felt with the crimes.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Alex walked in with another file in her hand, silently telling Wilma she was needed elsewhere for a minute and the shorter detective would take her place.

Wilma arose and soon was outside the interrogation room staring at a rather nervous looking sergeant. "What is it?" Wilma asked the younger man.

"A call was placed to 9-1-1 about an hour ago," Deakins answered in place of the nervous man who had heard rumors about this woman's temper and sharp wit. "It was your ex-husband's next door neighbor reporting gun shots coming from the Boufe residence. Three gunshots."

Wilma felt all the blood rush down from her brain to her feet, seemingly pooling on the floor as she tried to digest the news. Who was dead? Wasn't Jeremy at school today? She had to go. She had to go make sure her son was okay. She had to see her son.

Not a word was spoken as she ran to the elevators and caught one that was just closing to go down to the parking garage level. The ride down to the level was torturously slow as far as Wilma was concerned. All she wanted to do was get in her car and catch the next ferry to Staten Island to get to her son.

---

The scene was eerily quiet as Wilma pulled up. The paramedics were gone with two dead bodies, and none of the responding police officers would look her in the eye. It was almost as if they were ashamed that it had taken so long to respond, and that they were terrified she would take it out on them and make them pay.

"Mommy!" she heard a boy cry from behind her. Her voice caught in her throat as she turned around just in time for her son to leap into her arms, holding onto his mother in a vice like grip. "Mommy," he whimpered, "They won't tell me what happened."

He pulled back slightly, tears glistening in his dark brown eyes, "Why won't they tell me what happened?"

Wilma silently sent her son strength through her eyes before saying, "I want you to go with this man and pack up your books and everything you'll want for the next few days, okay, sweetie? I'll find out what happened."

Jeremy nodded and went with one of the officers to his room to gather some things that weren't at his mother's house. When he was gone, Wilma turned and strode over to the detectives in charge of the now unknown case. She flashed her badge at them and demanded to know what had happened.

The male detective bristled at her demanding, almost arrogant manner as his blonde, female partner glared at him before turning to Wilma again. "You're Jeremy's birth mother? My name's Frankie Silvera – my son goes to school with Jeremy. Forgive my partner, Detective Logan, he has no manners to speak of."

Mike Logan rolled his eyes as Wilma nodded once and said, "You're son is Ethan Silvera? Jeremy talks about him all the time. Now I'll ask again – what happened?"

"About an hour an a half ago three shots were fired from a revolver registered to Steven Boufe. When authorities arrived, there were two bullets in Mr. Boufe, and one in Mrs. Brittany Boufe, along with a note written by the missus stating her reasons for killing her husband and herself," Mike said, his eyes emotionless and his face blank.

Wilma digested the information with an equally blank face. "Can I see the note?" she asked quietly.

"You know we can't let you do that," Mike responded, shaking his head.

"What am I supposed to tell my son?" she whispered, her eyes glancing back to the door to the house Brittany and Steven had lived in with Jeremy since moving out from Indianapolis and away from Wilma.

Before one of the other detectives could answer the rhetorical question, Jeremy came out of the house with his duffle bag and backpack. "Mom?" he asked as he approached the three detectives, "Will you tell me now, or do I have to wait and ask Uncle Bobby to find out the real story?"

Wilma gave her eleven-year-old son a small smile, "No, sweetie, you don't have to wait. This is Detective Logan, and Detective Silvera – Ethan's mom."

Jeremy nodded, "I know. Mom, stop evading the question. I want a straight answer."

The mother of two looked down as she said, "It looks likes Brittany took your dad's gun and killed him before she killed herself."

"He's dead?" the boy asked, confusion etching premature lines in his face.

Mike's heart went out to the boy – he had lost his father when he was a child, as well. "He was dead before we got the call. Listen, kid, you're gonna be hearing this a _lot_ in the next few days … but I'm sorry it had to happen this way," Mike said, kneeling down to eyelevel with the child.

Jeremy felt the tears fill his eyes again, but when he opened his mouth to speak no words came out. Wilma wrapped him in a hug before saying, "Come on, Jer. Uncle Bobby made some cake yesterday, wanna go pawn some off Aunt Alex?"

He nodded, the idea of his uncle's infamous chocolate cake sounding better and better as his body went numb from the news.

"Can we stop at the museum before we go pick up Uncle Bobby?"

"The small one by One Police Plaza that he took you and Kali to last month?" At his nod, Wilma smiled softly. "Whatever you want to do, sweetie. Okay?"

"Okay."

---

Bobby and Alex got the news an hour after Wilma left to get Jeremy and exactly five minutes after extracting a confession from John Henderson. Although both of them didn't hold a great deal of fondness for the attorney, they still saddened at the thought of Jeremy having to go through such a severe loss at such a tender age.

When Wilma and Jeremy arrived at the bullpen of the Major Case Squad, Bobby was antsy to get a move on as he tried to complete his paperwork. He gave Jeremy a fierce hug and when he pulled away, the boy's face was drawn tight with tears he refused to shed in front of others.

Bobby's deep brown eyes met their watery counterparts and he silently assessed how his young nephew was taking the devastating events. When the older man did speak, it wasn't what the boy had expected to hear. "Wanna take a walk?"

"Okay," Jeremy whispered, following his uncle as Bobby got his coat and led him to the elevators before pausing.

"Will, I'll bring him back later tonight, okay?"

"That's fine," Wilma said, "If he wants to spend the night, that's okay, too."

Bobby nodded and soon Wilma watched as her brother and her son disappeared behind the metal doors.

_Dear God_, she prayed, _let him be all right_.

* * *

A/N: Don't worry, he'll be all right. Fluff returns up next! 


	18. Creating a New Rhythm

A/N: This chapter contains a lot of stuff over a long period of time, but I hope you like it. More BA fluff!

Oh, and I'm posting this now because I happen to be very happy that my mother's dream of being a foster mother (now that all her own children are grown) is being realized with the help of a 10 week premature baby boy named (none other than) Robert. Unfortunately, we can't call him Bobby (she prefers Robby or Berber - don't ask) but he's one of the cutiest newborns I've ever seen (born at less than five pounds, he's about a month old now).

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a haze for Jeremy as they moved all of his things into his mother and stepfather's house; funeral arrangements were made for Steven and Brittany; and after two weeks of sulking around his new house, facing his friends and teachers again at school. That had been one thing that wasn't touched in his life: which school he went to. Sure, it wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world for Wilma to catch the ferry with Jeremy every morning so he could go to school on Staten Island … but it would be worth it to keep that aspect of Jeremy's life the same. 

Wilma and Rick were transferred to Major Case, by order of the Chief of Detectives, because of their participation in catching the serial killer. No matter what they said in protest, by the time Wilma went back to work after taking a week off to stay home with Jeremy, she was going to work at One Police Plaza instead of the 2-7 Homicide Unit. Bobby and Alex, on the other hand, were relieved that they'd be able to keep a better eye on Wilma, and that their caseloads would get smaller with the extra help.

"Bobby?" Alex asked one night as they snuggled on her sofa two weeks after Steven and Brittany had died. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" He asked, pulling her closer as he shifted his weight to look at her clearly.

She looked back at him with a little trepidation, unsure if her words would be met with anger, fear or joy. "You remember what happened after we got the confession out of Manotti last month? When we got home?"

Bobby smirked at her as he remembered what _exactly_ they had done that night, "Sure I remember. I couldn't walk straight for two days."

Alex smiled back at him before the smile slipped from her face and she said, "I think I'm pregnant, Bobby."

He went still for a moment before asking, "Are you sure?"

She nodded, looking down at their connected hands, "I went to my OBGYN today during lunch while you and Wilma tried out that new deli on the corner."

"How far along?"

"Five weeks," she whispered, her eyes coming up to meet his. Instead of the terrified expression she was expecting, Alex found Bobby looking at her as he grinned like a maniac at the thought of being a father.

"We're having a baby?" he asked, his eyebrows rising to emphasize his point in a manner similar to the one he used when talking to suspects.

She nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, we are," she whispered. Before she knew what was happening, Bobby had flipped their bodies so that she was lying down flat on the sofa and he was on top of her, balancing his weight on his knees and arms while very careful not to put too much on her.

He leaned down and their lips met in a kiss fueled by passion and love. When he finally pulled apart he whispered, "That's nice."

---

"So you're telling me that for the past year you two have been in a romantic relationship?" Deakins asked, trying to clarify what two of his best detectives were telling him. Alex and Bobby were sitting in the two chairs in front of his desk.

"That's correct, sir," Alex responded.

"And you're telling me now _because_?"

"I'm pregnant, sir," Alex explained, her eyes full of confidence and truth, no fear evident in their brown midst.

Shock consumed Deakins as he sat down in his chair again with a thump. His eyes traveled from Bobby to Alex before he gave in and let the grin he had been suppressing fill his face from ear to ear.

He began chuckling; his mirth only added to by the silent look Bobby and Alex shared as they tried to process what was going on. When he had finally gotten the laughter under control he asked Bobby, "You think you can work with your sister's partner?"

"Rick?" Bobby shrugged, "Probably. Why?"

"I want to pair Wilma and Alex together for the duration of her pregnancy," Deakins said. At the protest he felt building, he raised his hand to halt it, "Don't get your panties in a bunch – if it doesn't work out, we'll take the situation to the Chief of D's and see what he has to say. All right?"

Alex and Bobby shared another silent look as her eyes told him that she'd try if he would. As much as he didn't want to lose Alex as a partner, part of Bobby knew that it would be the best of both worlds if he could work with Rick Nolan and go home every day to Alex in his bed.

"Okay," he finally said, "We can try it."

"Good," Deakins said as he picked up his phone to page Wilma and Rick into his office.

"You rang, O Persistent One?" Wilma asked with her eyebrows raised, using the name she had started calling Deakins after the fifth time he had requested her transfer to Major Case from Homicide.

Deakins' smile returned as he motioned for the two other detectives to enter his office. "It seems that something's been going on for the past year that has … produced some fruits that complicate things. Nolan, you're going to partner with Goren for the next few months while Eames and Tutuola take the Rumson case. After Eames gets back from maternity leave we'll reevaluate the situation and go from there."

---

"You've gotta be kidding me," Alex muttered as she and Wilma walked into their newest crime scene. Her stomach was rounded out in her fifth month as they walked away from the SUV and toward the robbery-turned-homicide that had called their attention.

"What is it?" Wilma asked as she turned to see if something was wrong with her partner.

Alex glanced at her before turning to the house and pointed out a tattoo on the forearm of the victim, "That."

"What's wrong with it?" Wilma asked as she inspected the body. The tattoo was of a lotus, the shadow of an elephant inside.

"It's the same as one of our witnesses from three years ago."

"What case?"

"A triple homicide attributed to the Masucci's."

"Oy veh."

"You can say that again."

---

"What did Angie say after she found out Tony and you were sleeping together?" Rick asked the suspect he and Bobby were interrogating a few weeks later.

The woman shook her head, refusing to answer. Bobby leaned across the table, placing his hand millimeters from her own. "Stacy," he said softly, "If you want to feel better about this, you need to come clean with what happened."

Stacy's eyes, full of tears, met Bobby's, "She said she didn't blame me. She said that she was gonna … gonna make Tony know what it feels like … feels like to be used like that. I – I couldn't let her do that to him."

"So you got the gun from Tony's house and you shot her," Bobby said, his head nodding to show he understood as his eyes bored into hers.

Stacy nodded, "Yeah. She was sitting on the couch … her hair mussed up and her shirt was buttoned wrong. A guy – I think he was an escort – came out of the bedroom. He left …and I shot her in the head before I could talk myself out of it. I just … I _had_ to protect Tony."

"Okay," Rick said, rising from his seat, "Now you're under arrest for murder."

As Nolan cuffed her and two officers came in to escort her to her cell, Bobby's phone rang. "Goren."

"Bobby, it's me," Wilma answered. "Alex went into labor."

"But she's only seven and a half months along!" Bobby said as he ran out of the interrogation room to grab his things.

"Bobby, it's entirely natural for the first pregnancy to be premature – Jeremy was born at eight months," Wilma tried to calm her older brother. "Now, we're at St. Mary's. And don't forget to tell Deakins!"

Bobby ran into his captain seconds after hanging up. "Eames went into labor," he explained to the captain. "She's over at St. Mary's with Wilma. One of us will call when the baby's born."

With that he was gone, down the elevator. Nolan walked out of the booking room moments after the elevator doors closed. "Where'd Goren go?" he asked the captain as he walked over.

"Alex's in labor over at St. Mary's," Deakins explained, "They'll call with an update."

Rick sighed, "I guess that means I get stuck with the paperwork again."

"Ain't life grand?"

* * *

A/N: Pretty much the last two scenes were to illustrate how the change was working for both pairs of partners, and that they're still working at top notch capabilities. Please review. Only one or two more chapters next. 


	19. Life Goes On

A/N: Wow, you guys are awesome, sticking with this chapter so long. Thank you all so much - especially those of you who reviewed.

* * *

Alex and Bobby looked down at their sleeping newborn son, his little face scrunched up in a scowl that reminded Alex of how Bobby looked when a case was eluding him. "He looks like you," she whispered to him, snuggling closer into his side with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, as the baby rested in Bobby's other arm safely. 

"Heaven forbid," Bobby muttered into her ear, "The poor child."

She grinned up at him, "Don't sell yourself short, sweetie."

"I'm pretty sure that's impossible," Wilma said from the doorway. She walked in with Jeremy and Kali. With a grin she said, "Is that the little guy?"

Bobby nodded, shifting so that the newcomers could see the baby boy better. He passed the baby to Jeremy before saying, "Yep. This is Jonathan James Goren."

Jeremy smiled down at the sleeping baby, "Hello."

"JJ?" Wilma said with a grin, "Cool."

"No, _not_ JJ," Bobby insisted. "Never JJ."

"Then what are you gonna call him?" she prodded. "Johnny? John? James? Jamie?"

"Jim," Bobby said with a nod. "We'll call him Jim."

"Jim?" Wilma made sure she had heard right. Kali tugged on Wilma's leg and she responded by picking up the little girl and putting her on the bed by Bobby and Alex.

"Au't Al'x!" the baby girl cried happily as she crawled over to Alex's stomach.

"Careful, Kali," Wilma cautioned her daughter as she got dangerously close to Alex's sore stomach. The girl stopped, looked at her mother and then at her auntie and uncle, unsure what she was to be careful about. Finally, Alex laughed and picked the girl up, carefully setting her down in between Bobby and herself.

"Whoa," Jeremy said, his eyes fixated on the face of the now wide-awake infant, "Uncle Bobby, he has your eyes."

Bobby looked over at his nephew and son as Wilma walked behind her son to peer at the child. "He's right, Bobby," she said when she glanced back up at her brother, "Jim's got Goren eyes."

"Oy veh," Alex said in her dry humor sort of manner, "This means trouble."

---

Alex looked from the steps leading into and out of the courthouse to the man beside her: Her new husband. It was almost surreal … well, it would have been if they hadn't already been living together and had a child together. The actual license was just icing on the cake as far as she was concerned.

That's why they did it small. Just a small ceremony with Wilma, Fin and Rick as witnesses; one of the friendly judges who had a soft spot for Bobby and Alex performing the ceremony; and a number of other well-wishers such as the Deakins', Ron Carver, John Munch, Olivia Benson and Lynn Bishop viewing the ceremony.

Bobby looked down at his wife's face, a small smile twitching on his lips, "You've been doing that a lot in the past hour."

She shrugged, "Can't help it. I just keep on thinking about you being my husband and I have to look at you to make sure these past two years haven't just been a dream."

He leaned down, his mouth brushing hers before he whispered, "Believe me, if it's a dream … I never want to wake up."

"Aw, not again," Fin complained from where he securely held his two-year-old in his arms, protecting her from the wind. "Come on, you two, cut it out!"

"Fin, give 'em a break," a six-month pregnant Wilma said when she walked up, closely followed by Rick and Jeremy. "When we got married it took you three months to stop looking at me like it was all a dream."

Fin smirked at his wife, walking over to her to snag a kiss before commenting, "Actually, it just took me three months to figure out how to hide it. I still look at you like that."

She chuckled as Rick turned to John and said, "Don't you wish they'd cut the sap sometimes? Just in half, that's all I'm asking."

John shrugged, "Don't know. Ask me in seven months."

"Why seven months?"

"I think by that time I should have an answer for you," John said as he brought Lynn into his embrace as she exited the courthouse with Olivia.

Olivia just smiled at her friends before lightly pushing Rick back a step, "Come on, tough guy, let's go get something to eat before they snag us to go with them for the after party."

"There's an after party?" Rick asked as he followed Olivia down the steps.

She looked at him strangely before replying, "Not one I want to hang around for."

"Where are we going?" he spoke again as they rounded a corner to the north of the courthouse steps.

She grinned at him, "I'll tell you when we get there."

"You like keeping secrets, don't you?"

"No, I just like winding guys up – especially when they let me."

---

"Let's talk, Nicole," Wilma said as she sat down across the table from her suspect. The one woman who had succeeded in doing what other criminals just dreamed of: turning Bobby Goren into mush.

"What's to talk about, Detective?" Nicole Wallace asked with a smile as she leaned forward over the table.

"Well, your fixation on another one of the detectives here, for one," Wilma said, still looking as cool as a cucumber, her face blank.

"I was wondering when Bobby would creep into this conversation, Detective Tutuola. Or should I call you Wilma?"

"Wilma's fine," she replied, raising an eyebrow. She leaned in closer to the suspect, so their faces were inches from each other before whispering, "I know why you're so fixated on him. I know what it is about _him_, and about you, that just keeps drawing you back for another round at who can make the most lethal mental blows."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nicole replied, her smile disappearing. "If anyone has the fixation, it's his on _me_. I'm the _victim_ here, not the criminal."

At that Wilma leaned back and nodded, "You are _a_ victim here, Nicole. But you also _create_ the victims." She got up to pace in front of the mirror, "You know how I know? Because I almost did the same thing when I was in college. What was it about Bobby that drew you to him? Was it how similar he looks to your father? Was that it? Was it his personality? The way he dominates everything even when he doesn't try to? Was it his strength? The same strength your father showed you when he forced himself on you when you were just a little girl?"

Nicole shook her head, "No, no, that never happened."

"Cut the crap," Wilma ordered as she rounded on Nicole, "I know, Nicole. I _know_ what it's like to be woken up at three in the morning because … there's an _itch_ that only you can scratch. How old were you, five? I was six when my mom started bringing them home for me." Nicole's fear-laden eyes met Wilma's and the detective nodded, "That's right. Pedophiles that gave her the cocaine she wanted in exchange for use of my body. I guess that's why I was attracted to my first husband."

Nicole shook her head, "I'm not like you. Stop it."

"Stop what?" Wilma asked as she slid into the chair next to Nicole's, "You know it's true. Bernard reminded you of your father, so you went with him and did what he told you to. Because if you could make him love you your childhood abuse could somehow be absolved? You know how many men my mother let molest me before I even hit puberty, Nicole? Over three hundred. Does that make me weak for letting it continue? Or maybe I should just blame my mother and her addiction to cocaine? Of course, it would just be better if I started going out and starting a rampage of pedophile murders just to get even with the men who stole my body!"

"No! It's all for Bobby now. To give him the chase – the thrill of an unsolvable crime that he loves …," she trailed off, coming to her senses and realizing what she had just said to the detective, with all on the other side of the mirror to bear witness to.

Wilma got up and walked behind Nicole, "Nicole Wallace, you are under arrest for the murders of Stephanie Kincaid, Matthew Donavan and James Donavan. You have the right to remain silent,"

"I know my rights," Nicole snapped, her cold eyes meeting Wilma's, "And I don't regret it. Seeing the shine from the chase lighting up his face makes it all worth it."

Wilma cocked her head to one side. "That shine wouldn't butter your parsnips, Nicole," she said in a British accent. "You're not the one who puts it there. His wife and son do."

The shocked Wallace was led to her cell as Wilma walked over to the new captain of the Major Case Squad, Captain Danny Ross. "The paperwork will be on your desk by tomorrow morning, Captain," she told him before turning around to start on the routine post-case paperwork.

"Tutuola," he called, stopping her. Wilma turned around and waited as he said, "If he hadn't been on family leave, that would have been Goren in there."

Wilma nodded, "I know that. Bobby knows we've got her, and so does Alex. She'll take care of him."

"You know," Ross said with a sigh, "She should have seen it."

"Seen what?"

"That look in your eyes – it's the same look Goren has in his."

She smirked, "Call it family resemblance, Captain. It's all in the eyes."

Fin

* * *

A/N: So? Was this any good? I hope you liked it - I really just had to wrap up the whole Nicole thing. Please review - I'd really like to know how to make my writing better, and what you thought of the interaction between Wilma and the rest of the gang. 

My hiatus officially begins ... _now_.


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